


To Make or Break

by Rilliane



Series: The Galactic Games [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Gen, Han's a mentor, Harm to Children, Lando's a stylist, Luke and Leia both participate, Minor Character Death, Tarkin's the Head Gamemaker, Vader intends to be the best damn sponsor ever, Violence, cause it's still the games, it's still GFFA but there are hunger games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25241377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rilliane/pseuds/Rilliane
Summary: Three years after the fall of the Republic, the Rebel Alliance started an uprising, intending to restore democracy back to the galaxy. In retribution, Emperor Palpatine established the Galactic Games- an event where fifty tributes would fight to the death, with only one of them surviving to claim the title of Victor.This year marks the 14th Galactic Games, and Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa both intend to win.Hunger Games AU
Relationships: Lando Calrissian & Leia Organa, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Han Solo
Series: The Galactic Games [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830352
Comments: 13
Kudos: 34
Collections: 2020 Star Wars Summer Fic Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MightyDragoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MightyDragoon/gifts).



> This is my fic for the SW Summer Fic Exchange, written for MightyDragoon.
> 
> A few words concerning the setting:
> 
> This is still the same galaxy we all know and love, and everything until ROTS happened the same way it did in canon. The differences start three years later, when the Rebellion started an uprising and Palpatine established the Games.
> 
> HOWEVER, this is not Panem. The rules of the galaxy are much more relaxed compared to the world in Hunger Games- people can still travel, take up whatever job they like, etc, but the children are required to participate in the reaping.
> 
> I've been wondering how many planets I should include in the Games, because too many would be hard to write, while 12 seemed like such an insignificant number when we have a whole galaxy. I finally settled on 25. Should I have included more? Probably, but as I said, too many tributes would be hard to keep track of.
> 
> There are some OCs, because I wouldn't be able to fill so many spots in the Games with canon characters, but they don't play any significant role.
> 
> Okay, I think that's it. Sorry for the long intro. I hope you enjoy!

The day of the reaping had always been quiet and tense, but there was something in the air this year that made Luke's hair stand on end. This was, after all, his last reaping- the next year he would be eighteen and forever free of the possibility of being chosen as a tribute.

If he wasn't chosen this year, that is.

Luke stared morosely at his reflection in the mirror, inspecting the clothes Aunt Beru had picked up for him. He didn't understand why everyone always dressed up for this occasion, but at least he wouldn't stand out. Not that it mattered- the tributes were chosen randomly, or so the Empire claimed. So far, Luke had been lucky to survive the previous six reapings despite the extra entries accumulated in exchange for food rations for his family, but there was always this one last chance things could go wrong.

Sighing, he made his way back to the kitchen, trying to muster up a smile. It wasn't his Aunt and Uncle's fault that the Galactic Games took place each year, so he shouldn't be a downer on their mood. Not that it mattered- Luke could see his Aunt's hands shaking slightly despite the weak smile she sent him in return.

Uncle Owen was the one trying to put up a firm front, acting as if today was just another day, but it was easy to tell he was nervous by the generous amount of curses he sent Empire's way in the morning alone. Still, Luke was kind of grateful for them trying to act normal. Maybe if he told himself enough times that everything would be alright, it actually would be.

Tatooine's population amounted to two hundred thousand. The chances of being elected were higher than on planets like Corellia or Alderaan, but slim nonetheless.

"Time to go," Uncle Owen said gruffly, and Luke felt his stomach sinking.

He had a very bad feeling about this.

* * *

The reapings were always held in Mos Espa, so they had to leave early to reach the city on time. Adults didn't need to attend the event, but children were almost always accompanied by their parents, and the settlement was crowded with people. Because of that, they had to leave their landspeedeer on the outskirts and walk the rest of the way on foot.

The stage had been set in the main square, with three chairs, a podium, and two large transparisteel bowls filled with flimsi in the middle- one for boys, and the other for girls. The flimsi was to assure everyone that candidates were indeed chosen randomly, though Luke suspected that if the Empire wanted to, they would fake the outcome anyway.

There were ten minutes left until the start, and the square was already filled with anxious children. Luke searched with his gaze for Biggs, before finding him standing near the dais together with Fixer, Camie, and Deak. He walked over, giving them a wan smile, and they nodded at him in return.

This was the last reaping for all of them, and they were all ready to get it over with.

Luke watched the Imperial Official by the name of Drez Kavkins walk onto the dais, his dark rich clothes seeming completely out of place in Tatooine's suns. He was new to the planet, completely fresh out of Coruscant, and absolutely not prepared for the harsh desert climate. Already, sweat was sliding down his face, and he looked like he couldn't wait to leave the place.

The chair beside him was filled by a Rodian, and Luke wasn't even sure what his name was. He was here only because Jabba couldn't be bothered to attend the event himself, and so each year he sent a representative instead.

The last seat was reserved for the mentor of future tributes. In some cases, the mentor was a former victor from the planet, but unfortunately for Tatooine, no one from their world had ever won the Galactic Games. Instead, they had been assigned a mentor from another planet, and this year it was a Corellian by the name of Han Solo.

Solo was young, but at least he was a Victor- that had to count for something. Last year they got a drunkard from Ord Mantell, so this at least seemed like an improvement.

At exactly 1300 standard hours, the Rodian whose name Luke didn't know stood up and started the usual spiel depicting the history of the Galactic Empire.

It rose on the ashes of the Republic, which lasted for millennia and ultimately crumbled under the feet of corrupt senators. After the Republic fell, Emperor Palpatine formed the Galactic Empire, which once again brought peace to the galaxy. Unfortunately, four years after the formation of the Empire, the peace was broken. Some of the surviving Jedi, as well as more staunch defenders of the democracy, started a Rebellion, and eventually, an uprising broke out.

It didn't last long. The rebels were quickly crushed, decimated by the Emperor's new enforcer, Darth Vader. Most of the insurrectionists were killed, and soon after that, the Galactic Games had been established.

Originally, they consisted of thirteen planets that took the most active part in the uprising. However, in the following years, the number of planets had been expanded by another twelve, including worlds that harbored fugitives from the Rebellion.

The sole reason for Tatooine's participation in the Games was that a Jedi by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi hid there after the uprising.

Luke could hardly think of something less fair.

The purpose of the Galactic Games was for each planet to provide two tributes, a boy and a girl, who would later fight to the death in a specially engineered arena. The victor could only be one.

The Rodian ended his speech with long praise for the Hutts and their generosity before sliding down to his chair and making space for Drez Kavkins.

The man stepped up to the podium, saying loudly, "Welcome to the 14th Galactic Games! May the odds be in your favor." He stopped, cleared his throat, and adjusted the collar of his jacket, which was clearly tied too tightly for Tatooine's heat. "We will start with the girls." His hand reached into the transparisteel bowl which contained all the girls' names before drawing a slip of flimsi.

"Aola Devaro!" He exclaimed.

All heads turned in the direction of suddenly parting crowd. After a few silent moments when cries of despair could be heard, two stormtroopers walked to the podium escorting a Twi'lek girl who looked ready to faint.

Kavkins shook her hand, giving her an empty smile, before he turned back to the morose crowd and declared, "We have the first tribute! Now to the boys!"

His hand reached for the second bowl and Luke felt his heart drop.

Suddenly, he knew with absolute certainty who the second tribute would be.

* * *

Leia walked up to the stage with her head raised high and her back straight. The crowd parted in front of her like it always did during state celebrations, only now the faces that looked at her were grim and desolate. She was pretty sure some of the onlookers even started sobbing.

She didn't look at her parents- she couldn't. If she did, her composure would crumble, and she would become a teary mess. That would be unacceptable. She couldn't allow herself to appear easy prey.

The Imperial Official grinned at her like she just won a lottery before taking her hand in his and giving her a firm shake. Leia only gazed at him cooly, wondering if the grin reflected the man's true sentiments. After all, she was pretty sure all the Imperials were very glad that the Alderaanian Princess was finally going to die.

The reaping hadn't been a surprise, not really. The only surprise was that it had come so late. Then again, perhaps that was the point. Give her hope for six years and then snatch it from right before her eyes during her last reaping.

The Imperial moved on to the second bowl, drawing a flimsi and shouting, "Bornae Dat!"

It took a while for the stormtroopers to locate the boy, considering how many people gathered in Aldera that day. Some of them watched from their speeders above, unable to find an empty spot on the ground. When Bornae was finally brought to the stage, Leia couldn't help but pity the kid. She didn't know him, but she already mourned his loss.

Though perhaps that was premature. He could surprise them yet.

After the new tributes had been introduced to the crowd, Leia and Bornae were marched up the steps of the Royal Palace, requisitioned by the Empire for the duration of the Reapings. Then they were led to separate rooms to await the last meeting with their families.

Leia managed to hold her composure up until the door to the room opened and her parents walked in, and then she was throwing her arms around their necks, the tears she had withheld for so long streaming freely down her face.

"My baby," her mother said, and it was clear from her voice that she was crying as well. "This is not the end. You will win and come back to us."

"No I won't," Leia sniffed, burying her head in her mother's shawl. "I'm not strong enough to win."

"Of course you are," her father said, putting a hand on Leia's shoulder. "We will do everything in our power to help you. We will send you as many gifts as we can and we will find sponsors that will do the same. You will win this yet, Leia. We believe in you."

Leia pulled back from her mother's embrace and wiped away the tears. Were her parents actually confident that she would win, or were they just comforting her? It didn't matter, except for the fact that she would feel terrible for disappointing them when she ultimately lost.

No, she couldn't think like that. If she didn't believe herself that she would win, then she already lost. She had to at least _try._

A stormtrooper entered, signaling their time was up, and Leia gave her parents one last hug before they were forced to leave the room.

Alone again, Leia wondered; was this the last time she would be seeing her parents and her planet?

* * *

"It's all in the mind," Han Solo said, smearing some green pasta on a piece of toast. "Being confident that you can win is already half of the success. Me? I knew from the beginning that I would become the victor and so I did."

"Just like that," Luke said dryly, twirling a fork in his hands.

They were sitting in the dining room of the large spaceship that served as their transport to the Imperial Center, already one day from Tatooine. The whole ship was opulent and extravagant and as a result kind of intimidating for someone who spent his whole life living in poverty on Tatooine. Each tribute was even given their own chambers that included a fresher with running water.

Running water! For the first time in his life, Luke had taken an actual water shower.

Solo shrugged. "As I said, this is half of the success. The rest is part skill and part luck. Are you good with any weapons?"

Luke hesitated. "I've used a blaster before…"

Solo raised his eyebrows. "Just 'used'? That's not good enough, kid. A blaster is an optimal choice if you don't know any other weapons. You'll have to work on that." He turned his head to Aola. "What about you?"

The Twi'lek shrugged. "I figure I'm good enough with a blaster."

"Okay, so we'll concentrate on that front. Any other skills worth mentioning?"

Luke chewed on the pancakes that served as his breakfast. "I'm a good pilot. Very good."

"Well, it's too bad you're not gonna get anything to pilot, then. Unless they change the rules this year." His eyebrows rose as if to say how unlikely that was.

"How old were you when you won the Games?" Aola asked.

"Seventeen. The first Galactic Games." Solo shrugged. "It was a lot worse back then, trust me. We had absolutely no idea what to expect. Now you have thirteen years of material to draw on."

"Will it be of any use, though?" Luke wondered. "They change the arena and settings every year."

"Probably not," Solo agreed. "But it's _something_. And you need every possible advantage to win."

Luke glanced at Aola tersely and she returned the wary look. They both knew only one of them could come out of this alive.

"Um, Mr. Solo…"

"Han's fine."

"Han," Luke repeated. "Aren't you bothered that you're serving as our mentor? You're probably hoping that a tribute from Corellia will win."

Han shrugged, reaching for a cup of caf before bringing it to his lips. "I don't care either way, kid. I signed up for this gig for money, but now that I'm here, I can as well help you win. Not that I care," he repeated quickly.

"Right," Luke said, lowering his gaze to his already empty plate. He's probably eaten too much, but it was hard to resist when there was so much food ready for the taking. Even so, his stomach was already starting to hurt.

"Have you two watched the recap of all the reapings yesterday?".Han asked.

"Yeah," Aola murmured. "There were a lot of volunteers."

Han sighed. "Don't let it discourage you. They don't always win."

Luke had a sudden epiphany. "Is this your first time serving as a mentor?"

Han glanced at him warily. "Yeah. Why?"

Luke shrugged. "Never mind," he muttered. If Han had never coached any tributes before, that explained why he wasn't jaded yet, and why he thought they stood a chance at winning.

"Don't get me wrong, kid," Han started, probably sensing some of Luke's sentiments. "There will be many participants who are stronger and more skilled than you. That's not up for debate. But so were there during my Games. And I still won. So, give yourself a fighting chance."

Both Luke and Aola fell silent at that, so Han took that chance to finish his toast. After a moment, he clapped his hands and said, "So, since speeders are out of the question, is there anything else you can impress your potential sponsors with?"

"Well, I'm good with machines…"

* * *

Leia had been to the Imperial Center before, so it failed to impress her as much as it did Bornae. The planet was glittering with never dimming lights, its tall buildings rising high into the sky.

It _was_ beautiful, but it wasn't home.

When their ship lowered itself closer to the surface, Leia could see thousands of eager faces watching their arrival from slim speeders or opened balconies. They all treated the Games as an annual entertainment, never having to worry about participating themselves. Leia could never understand how so many beings who previously lived in a Democratic State could become so desensitized to human tragedy.

They were taken to an opulent building where a crowd of people led her and Bornae to different rooms, where they were put in the hands of stylists.

Leia found herself severely unimpressed by her unimpressed stylists.

They took one look at her and decided she looked 'provincial and plain', before completely redoing her hair, makeup, and nails. By the time they were done, Leia didn't need to look into the mirror to know she wouldn't like what she saw. And indeed, her reflection showcased a completely different girl to the one who just walked through the door.

Leia hated it.

Her initial makeover done, Leia was then led to another room where a smartly dressed dark-skinned man awaited on one of the couches. When Leia entered, the man rose and crossed the distance between them, smiling warmly.

"Hello," he said pleasantly, gesturing for Leia to sit down. "My name is Lando Calrissian and I'm your stylist."

"Hello," Leia replied politely, not smiling back.

It didn't seem to bother Lando, though; the man clasped his hands in his lap before leaning forward, a slight smile never leaving his face. "Right," he said, and Leia could hear the 'let's get down to business' in his voice. "I'm here to make sure you impress the right crowd during the opening ceremony and later on. Do you know what tributes from Alderaan usually wear?"

"Our traditional garb," Leia replied. She watched every single Games since she was nine and her parents had finally allowed her before the holoprojector. Every time, the Alderaanians were dressed in white, their national color, and the clothes itself looked more or less like those usually worn on Alderaan during state celebrations. More or less, because each year the stylist tried to tweak the costumes a bit to make them stand out.

That last thought made Leia pause- she was pretty sure the stylist for Alderaan used to be female. "You're new, aren't you?" She frowned at Lando.

"Actually, I'm not," Lando replied politely. "But I used to design the costumes for Corellian tributes. This is my first time as a stylist for Alderaan."

Leia tried to rack her brain for any memories of Lando, but she usually didn't pay much attention to teams other than Alderaan. For all she knew, Lando could have been present at every Galactic Games since the beginning.

"Anyway," Lando started, breaking the momentary silence. "We won't be doing the traditional style this year."

"We won't?" Leia asked, appalled. That was actually the only thing she was looking forward to- showcasing her Alderaanian heritage, even though the hairstyle and the makeup would look completely out of place.

Lando shook his head. "No. Sorry Leia, but it won't make you win." He raised his hand to stop the oncoming protest. "It won't, Leia. People are used to this. We need something new to attract their attention and the traditional garb just won't do the trick."

Leia gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest in a sulking gesture. There was nothing wrong with the traditional Alderaani garb, and if the people of the Galaxy didn't like it, that was their problem.

Lando sighed. "Leia, come on. I just want to help you win. I'm sure that's what you want too."

Leia didn't look him in the eyes when she asked, "So what will I be wearing?"

The smile slowly returned to Lando's face, and Leia cautiously looked back in his direction.

"Well, I hope you'll still like it…"

* * *

Leia twirled a few times in front of the long mirror, watching her cape flutter behind her back. She had to give it to Lando- the man knew what he was doing.

Her clothes didn't resemble the traditional garb in the least, yet they still paid tribute to Alderaan. The dress itself was white and plain, with an ornamental clasp at the waist. What made the biggest impression, though, was the cape. Leia wasn't sure what material it was made of, but it was light and delicate, and she could barely feel it on her back. When she walked, it gently fluttered behind her, making it seem as if snow was falling right from her shoulders.

"So, what do you think?" Lando asked from behind her, and Leia was pretty sure she could detect some nervousness in his voice.

"It's nice," Leia replied carefully, not yet willing to admit she preferred this dress to the usual outfits.

"Just 'nice', huh?" Lando asked, but he was smiling broadly, and Leia couldn't help but smile back. Despite herself, she was starting to like the man.

"Wait for the dress I prepare for your victory ceremony," he mused out loud, sending Leia a conspiratorial grin. "Everyone will remember the first princess who won the Galactic Games!"

Lando's cheerful mood was contagious, and soon Leia found herself laughing together with him, momentarily forgetting her dire situation. Unfortunately, this had come to an end when one of the other stylists entered, informing Leia that she was supposed to meet with Bornae next.

"Go," Lando said, motioning Leia toward the door. "Make sure to amaze them, Leia. I will be watching." He winked, and Leia sent him a smile before heading for the exit.

For the first time since this nightmare began, she was actually in a good mood.

* * *

Darth Vader hated Galactic Games. They were petty, pointless, and a complete waste of time. And each year, he was forced to attend the opening and closing ceremony along with his master.

He didn't understand why the Emperor took such pleasure in watching children fight to the death. They weren't Jedi, most of them weren't even force sensitive. They weren't even the ones who incited the Rebellion in the first place.

Still, he couldn't deny that it was somewhat effective. Since the Uprising was crushed and the Galactic Games established, there weren't that many planets willing to support rebels. The twenty-five worlds that were punished most severely simply no longer had sufficient firepower to try anything, while the rest was too afraid to attract the Empire's wrath.

A lot of people didn't care. If a planet's population was in billions, the chance of being elected for the Games was close to zero. If a person didn't take extra rations for their family, they were usually safe.

Of course, that didn't mean you couldn't still be selected, as was proven in the case of Princess Leia Organa.

Vader's gaze moved to follow the Alderaanian tributes, dressed in outfits meant to imitate snow. There was something satisfying about the fact that everyone knew that Organa's reaping had been faked, yet no one could do anything about it.

The Princess would die just like all the other tributes before her.

Vader forced his gaze back to the procession of twenty-five speeders, each carrying two children. Alderaan, Corellia, Kuat, Ord Mantell… he didn't even bother to remember all the planets that participated in the Galactic Games. Though, he was kind of glad that as of nine years prior, Tatooine was forced to take part in the Games as well. That accursed planet should pay for its very existence

The speeders slowly approached the Imperial Palace, where the delegation with Emperor Palpatine, Vader, and Grand Moff Tarkin awaited. Each time a speeder set down on the ground, a speaker announced the names of the tributes, and the crowds watching the procession from their own transportation vehicles went wild.

It seemed that Princess Leia was already a fan favorite. No matter, she would die soon enough.

Vader only half-listened to the announcements, his mind already back with his fleet. The only downside to the uprising had been that after it was crushed, the rebel activity dropped so low that sometimes he was hard-pressed to find any unrest to take care of. Still, it didn't disappear _entirely_ , and Vader would much rather return to his duties than spend any more time on this pointless event.

His attention returned to the spectacle just when the tributes from Ralltiir were being announced- Derek Klivian and Sara Zares.

That made a total of three tributes, along with the Princess, that Vader knew the names of.

"And for the last," the speaker announced, his voice carrying clearly through the streets of Coruscant, "we have Tatooine! Welcome Aola Devaro and Luke Skywalker!"

And Vader's vision went white.

* * *

Crushing the data chip in his hand, Darth Vader stalked through the corridors of the Imperial Palace, one purpose in mind.

He was going to kill the Emperor.

It was long overdue, anyway. The old man should be already dead. What had he waited for all these years? The coup was always on his mind. The only thing he lacked was a promising apprentice.

A promising apprentice. Like his own son, a descendant of the Force itself.

His son, who was going to die in a week, when the Galactic Games started. An event orchestrated by the Emperor.

The gates to the throne room opened slowly and Vader walked through, not bothering to even look at the guards. His feet screeched to a halt in front of the throne, and he stood there a moment in silence, letting the Emperor acknowledge that he would not bow. When Palpatine's eyes narrowed, Vader finally demanded, "Did you plan this?"

The emperor's lips curled in displeasure, his yellow eyes sending Vader a look of pure menace. "Lord Vader," the Emperor finally hissed. "Perhaps you should alter your tone when speaking to your Emperor." The words carried more than one threat.

At the moment, Vader didn't care. "Luke Skywalker is my son," he growled, finally uttering the words that had been constantly on his mind for the last hour. "Did you know that?!"

Palpatine steepled his fingers, leaning back in his seat. "No," he said flatly, his eyes never losing the sharp look. "Not until the reaping. Like you, I had thought the child dead."

Vader had a hard time believing that. "So you've known since then and didn't tell me," he hissed, the sound reverberating through the vast hall.

Palpatine spread his hands as if in a helpless gesture. "But my friend," he started, and there was definitely something mocking in his voice, "how was I to know you didn't watch the reapings? If you had, you could check the blood results at the same time I had." His eyebrow rose, and Vader could feel him looking at the data chip in his hand.

For once, Vader didn't have a cutting response because the emperor was right- if he had bothered to find out the names of the tributes earlier, he wouldn't be here now. Still, he gritted his teeth and said, "You must recall him from the Games."

The air crackled and Vader could feel the first signs of electricity dancing on his skin. "I _must_?" Palpatine seethed. "Lord Vader, I fear you're forgetting your place."

"He is my son," Vader plowed on, aware of the thin line he was balancing on. "He should've never been chosen for the Games in the first place."

"Be as it may," the Emperor said coldly, "his name had been drawn and it is too late to alter the results. The whole galaxy saw the tributes, do you realize how it would look if I just replaced one of them on a whim?"

"He is my son," Vader repeated, something cold growing in the pit of his stomach.

"Indeed," Palpatine agreed and his lips spread in a wide smile. "And thus you should have confidence in him. If he is your progeny, I'm sure he will have no problem in winning the Games."

"But–" Vader started, then stopped. What could he say to that, truly? He couldn't tell the Emperor that he didn't believe his son was strong enough- that would be a sure death sentence, whether he emerged a victor or not. "He wasn't trained in the dark side," he said finally.

Palpatine shrugged. "I'm sure the son of the Chosen One will be able to win despite that. And after he proves himself, we will make sure to remedy his lack of training."

Vader tightened his hands into fists, seething at the old moniker. Palpatine had successfully stripped him of all his arguments, leaving him no choice but to accept the decision. He could, of course, try to attack his master, but now that he was finally in front of him, he realized that he still wasn't ready.

Not until he had his son at his side.

"Will that be all, Lord Vader?" Palpatine asked coldly, and Vader was taken out of his reverie.

"Yes," he gritted out before making a shallow bow and striding out of the throne room.

He was going to kill the Emperor, yes. When those wretched Galactic Games ended and he had his son secured safely on Coruscant. And that wouldn't happen if Luke didn't survive the arena.

Vader would make damn sure he would.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Han said, staring at the nondescript man in front of him. "You want to put your money on Luke Skywalker _already_."

"Not me," the man replied stiffly, and Han got the distinct impression that he was very uncomfortable with the whole situation. "My employer, who wishes to remain anonymous."

"Riiight," Han drawled, sizing the man up. Despite his civilian clothing, his posture screamed _military,_ which honestly didn't leave many options for his potential employer. Military types didn't usually bother with Galactic Games. "You do realize I need a name for the sponsorship contract?"

"You will use mine," the man said. "I will act as a proxy."

"And your name is…"

"Piett. Firmus Piett."

Han resolved to check out the man and his potential employer later. "Alright, Piett," he said. "You _do_ know that I can't use this money before the Games start, right?"

Almost no one signed the sponsorship contract before the Games started. It simply didn't pay off- most tributes died in the first hours of the Games, so sponsors waited to see who had the most potential to survive. It especially was unheard of to sign the contract before the interview aired and training scores were announced.

"I am aware," the man said. "By signing the contract early, my employer wishes to convey who you should focus on during training."

That… well. There was some sense in that. Kids without sponsors usually didn't win Galactic Games.

"So what's on that?" Han asked, raising the credit chip to his eyes.

Piett hesitated, turning his head both sides as if to check that no one was listening before he leaned forward and whispered the number in Han's ear.

Upon hearing it, Han reeled back in shock. "You've _got_ to be kidding me."

"I do not kid," the man said flatly, though Han could detect something akin to sympathy in his voice. "My employer has a great interest in making sure that Luke Skywalker emerges the victor."

"I could buy ten starships with this amount!" Han exclaimed, staring at the other man in disbelief. Just who the hell was this man's employer?!

Piett made a pained expression which showed Han that the man didn't understand the situation either before his face smoothed back into a blank mask. "That is not all," he said drily. "You are to spend these credits on everything you deem necessary _and_ when they run out you will contact me and I will provide more."

Han stared at the man in silence for a moment. Was he actually _serious_? No one spent this much credits on tributes _ever_. Sure, the prices for gifts were exorbitant, the bread alone cost almost 50 times its normal price, but with this much money, the kid could have three full courses a day with credits to spare. "Why?" He asked, because it all came down to that. People usually sponsored kids because they were somehow impressed by their performance. With only the opening ceremony and the kid's plain desert outfit, Han really couldn't comprehend how Luke already gained such a generous sponsor.

"That is irrelevant," Piett dismissed, which Han took to mean ' _I don't know either_ '. "Your role is to simply ensure that Luke Skywalker wins."

"Simply?!" Han boggled at him. "Even with all those credits, I can't _make_ the kid win."

"For your sake, Mr. Solo," Piett started levelly, giving Han a heavy stare, "you should make your damn best to _try_."

Han narrowed his eyes. "Is that a threat?"

"Consider this a friendly warning," Piett replied. "My employer is not someone to be trifled with. If for some reason he wants Luke Skywalker to win, I sincerely hope the boy will."

"And if he dies?" Han challenged.

Piett sighed. "For both our sakes, Mr. Solo, let's hope he won't."

Han considered the man for a moment. "What if I don't spend all the money?" That was, after all, a _big_ amount.

Piett gave him a shrewd look. "You can probably keep it," he said. "That is, assuming Skywalker wins."

Han nodded, already thinking of all the new parts he could buy for _Millenium Falcon_ with these credits. "Alright," he said finally. "Am I allowed to mention this to the kid or not?"

Piett shrugged. "My employer didn't say anything about it, so I assume this is up to you."

"Okay. Fine," Han muttered, turning the chip in his fingers.

So many credits… The kid certainly found one hell of a sponsor. One could wonder what they would expect in return.

Still, Han actually regretted that as a mentor, he wasn't allowed to bet on any of the tributes. Gifts weren't everything, but they definitely _helped_ , and with the amount Han was about to send Luke, the kid better not die by eating some poisoned berries.

Han smiled. Maybe he wasn't allowed to bet on tributes, but no one forbade him from enticing others to do so.

Time to comm Chewie.

* * *

Before they left for the training center, Han took Luke aside and said, "Focus on your shooting skills. Find a blaster that suits you the most and tell me the model later. Aside from that, learn camouflage, knot tying, and other survival skills except for anything having to do with finding food. You won't need that."

"Why?" Luke asked. Finding food skills seemed to be pretty important in all the previous games.

"Well, kid," Han started dryly, a wry smile appearing on his lips, "it seems you already have a sponsor intent on providing you with everything you need to survive."

"What?" Luke exclaimed disbelievingly. He knew he'd be lucky to get even one sponsor after the Games started, but _before_? Especially after his weak performance at the opening ceremony the day before?

Han shrugged, giving him a lopsided smile. "What can I say, the odds are certainly in your favor. _I_ didn't get a sponsor willing to spend millions of credits on me."

Luke stared, wondering when Han would crack up and call the joke. But the Corellian didn't laugh, instead, he grew serious and said, "I'm not joking, kid. A guy approached me yesterday, saying his employer wants to sponsor you in the Games. He gave me a credit chip with a ridiculous amount of money- enough to turn your life upside down and again. Aaand he also said to ask for more if you needed it." Han paused, raising an eyebrow. "You don't happen to know a Firmus Piett, do you?"

Luke shook his head mutely. Was Han actually _serious_? Who in the world would want to spend so much money on a kid from Tatooine?

Han sighed. "Thought so. Well, I still didn't manage to find out who is this employer of his, but the guy's loaded and he wants you to win. So, I'm going to send you everything you need- weapons, food, and whatever else you want. Which is why you need to tell me what strikes your fancy in the training room."

"But–" Luke started, then paused. Did he seriously get this lucky? Could he actually _win_ this thing? "Why?" He asked eventually.

"Hell if I know, kid," Han said, shrugging. "Maybe they want you to work for them in the future. Or maybe you have family on Coruscant."

Right. As if a farm boy from Tatooine could have a rich relative in Imperial Center.

"Do they pay for Aola too?" He asked instead.

Han shook his head. "Only you," he said, then hesitated. "Probably better if you don't tell her."

Luke nodded, though guilt started churning in his gut. He didn't want Aola to die, but only one of them could leave this planet alive, and he wasn't planning on losing, especially now that he had this advantage.

For the first time since the reaping, Luke had hope.

Maybe he would win these Games yet.

* * *

Luke wanted to follow Han's advice and go straight for the shooting range, but it was also the most popular training station among the other tributes, so he decided to try to learn how to make traps first. He thought he saw Aola go for camouflage, but in all honesty, he was glad they weren't sticking together. It would be only harder for them later if they got close now.

The traps station was empty, so he had the undivided attention of the trainer assigned to explain things. He spent two hours learning how to make snares before looking again at the shooting range. Most of the people dispersed among other stations, and the only one currently training with a blaster was a girl from Alderaan. Luke remembered her because it was shocking news at the time- a princess being elected for the Games.

Luke wondered whether it proved that reapings were set up. Was his election not accidental as well?

He made his way over to the shooting range, spending a few minutes to choose a blaster. There was a wide variety of weapons to choose from, including blaster rifles and even cannons, but in the end, he decided to start with a simple pistol. It was easiest to carry around anyway.

He joined the girl in front of the targets and checked the settings on his blaster. His eyebrows rose. "There's no stun setting?" He muttered out loud.

He jumped when he heard a scoff next to him.

"Please," the girl said, raising a blaster rifle to her eye level. "We're here to kill each other. What would we need the stun setting for?" She shot, hitting the bullseye on the first try.

Luke glanced at the target in envy. "I guess you're right," he murmured sadly, before mirroring her actions and aiming at the board. He gave three shots, every time missing the center of the target just by inches. He grimaced.

"Imagine someone you hate," the girl said, and Luke remembered that her name was Leia Organa. "It's loads easier then, trust me."

Luke raised his eyebrow but did try to picture Emperor Palpatine as his target. He hit the bullseye on the second try. "Thanks," he grinned at the girl.

She smiled slightly back before her expression smoothed back to a blank mask. Luke mentally grimaced. Right, no one wanted to be friends with your potential killer.

Leia put the blaster rifle back on the shelf, picking up a pistol similar to Luke's instead. She walked over to a small cannon standing in the corner and moved it to the center of the station, turning it on. Immediately, the cannon started blasting small balls.

"Moving targets," she explained, reading herself for the shot. She didn't get all the balls, but her score was still impressive. Luke tried shooting at them a few times and got one in total.

After a while, Leia changed the settings on the cannon so the balls were flying faster. Many of them ended up on the floor, but one stray ball ricocheted right off the wall and went flying over their heads. Luke and Leia both turned around to watch where it went and followed with their eyes as the ball steadily bounced up and down, approaching a group of Gamemakers with Grand Moff Tarkin in the middle.

Luke was about to turn back to the shooting range when Leia raised her blaster and gave one shot, hitting the stray ball when it was right in front of the Head Gamemaker.

The whole training center went quiet, the shot reverberating in the hall. Tarkin stumbled back from his spot, clearly startled, while others in the group gasped and called for guards.

It didn't take them long to find the source of the commotion, considering everyone in the center was staring in shock at Leia.

"Miss Organa," Tarkin said loudly, and despite the distance between them, his voice carried clearly across the hall. "Is there perhaps something wrong with your eyes? I could swear the shooting range is behind you."

"I was shooting at the target, sir," Leia said boldly, and Luke couldn't help but be a little impressed by her nerve.

Tarkin's gaze darkened before he said, "You are banned from the shooting range for the duration of the training period. Do not repeat this action again or there will be consequences." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the hall, the rest of his group following hurriedly behind.

"Consequences," Leia muttered angrily, putting the blaster back on the shelf with a loud _bang_. "Like what? Me being here is already one big consequence."

Luke shook his head scornfully. "Do you have any idea who you just pissed off?" He asked disbelievingly. "Tarkin can make or break you. _He_ decides your final score, which often determines if you get any sponsors! Not to mention he can make your life a living hell in the arena."

"Still worth it," Leia mused.

"...yeah," Luke reluctantly agreed. "The look on his face? Priceless."

A moment later they were both grinning at each other.

* * *

The next two days passed uneventfully. Being banned from the shooting range, Leia had to contend herself with either training with other weapons or learning survival skills. Most people stayed away from her, not wanting to be associated with someone who pissed off the Head Gamemaker. Even Bornae seemed reluctant to spend too much time in her company.

On the third day, each tribute was supposed to have an individual session with the Gamemakers, where they would assign them a score that would be later announced on the Holonet. Leia didn't have high hopes for impressing the judges even before her stunt with the ball. Now? She would be lucky to score three.

Low scores had its advantages. If other tributes underestimated you, you could gain an upper hand. Of course, the cons outweighed the pros- tributes who scored low rarely got any sponsors.

Leia knew she could count on her parents and maybe their associates in that department, so her score didn't bother her too much. Better for the rest of the kids to think she was already on a losing position.

During her turn with the Gamemakers, Leia picked up a blaster and hit the bullseye a few times before being dismissed by Tarkin.

Back in the apartment set up for tributes from Alderaan, she listened to Bornae describe his private session with little enthusiasm. "I made a trap," he said, poking the nerf stake on his plate with a fork. "Not too impressive, I'm afraid."

"You could do worse," their Imperial Escort said, giving Leia a firm stare. "You could piss off the Gamemakers before your session even began."

"Oh, give her a break," Lando cut in. "I mean, who could resist that shot?"

Lando and Bornae's stylist, Denver, had joined their small group for dinner and to watch the results later. Together with their Escort, Mart, and their Ord Mantellian mentor, who was currently busy getting himself drunk on wine, it made a total of six people in the room.

"Perhaps someone who wished to win the Games," Mart snapped, turning in his seat to glare at Leia. "It's not only about the sponsors, you know. Tarkin could make your life a living hell in the arena."

Leia shrugged, though inside she was churning with anxiety. It _did_ feel good to startle Tarkin like that, but Mart was right- if he really wanted to, Tarkin could be the death of her without actually killing her outright. She shouldn't have antagonized him like that.

"Shhh," their mentor slurred. "It's starting."

They all turned tersely to the Holoprojector, where the speaker started announcing individual scores for every tribute. When it was Alderaan's turn, Bornae's score appeared first- six.

"Not that bad," Mart commented, though Bornae's shoulders slumped.

Then Leia's holo showed up, and everyone leaned forward.

"Well," Lando started, giving Leia a tentative smile. "It's not three, so I'd count it as a success."

She got five. Which, in all honesty, was more than she expected. Leia guessed Tarkin didn't want to appear a little _too_ eager to see her gone, especially considering everyone knew her reaping was set up.

The scores of the rest of the tributes varied- most of those who volunteered got at least nine, at most ten. No one got eleven or twelve. The boy from the shooting range who laughed with her about Tarkin- Luke Skywalker- got eight, and Leia wondered whether he improved his shooting skills.

Would he imagine someone he hated while pointing a blaster at her?

Leia went to sleep with faces and scores flashing before her eyes.

* * *

"We need a strategy for the interview," Lando said, lounging in the plush couch that was set up in the sitting room.

"Shouldn't I be discussing this with my mentor?" Leia asked.

Lando raised an eyebrow. "You mean the one who is currently getting busy in the liquor cabinet?"

There was a pause. "Why is he signing up as a mentor every year, again? I remember he got Tatooine last year," Leia said.

Her stylist shrugged. "You need money to buy alcohol, and the Games pay well, I believe."

Leia sighed. "So, the interview?"

"Mart would normally coach you on how to behave on the scene, but since you're a princess, we'll skip that part. I'll show you the dress later- trust me when I say you'll look stunning," Lando paused. "So, the interview. You must appear as if you've volunteered for this."

Leia's eyebrows rose. "And how do I do that? It's not like the reapings weren't transmitted across the galaxy."

"It doesn't matter," Lando said. "You think people will remember all twenty-five reapings? Not a chance," he paused. "You need to be assertive. Don't wait for the interviewer to ask you questions- take lead. Say that you are very proud to be representing your country. That your parents are proud as well. That you've always waited for a chance like this. Things like that."

"Okay," Leia replied cautiously "I get it. I think I can do that."

"I know you can," Lando reassured her, and his easy confidence made Leia feel better. "Shall we prepare some lines?"

They traded questions and answers back and forth between them, with Leia trying to do most of the talking. All in all, she wasn't overly worried about the interview- during her life as a princess, Leia spent much of the time in the spotlight, surrounded by people. She knew how to win the audience.

After three exhausting hours, Lando finally showed Leia her dress. It was the ceremonial gown for Alderaanian royals.

"I don't understand," Leia said, inspecting the white garments. "I thought you wanted to be original?"

"For the opening ceremony, yes," Lando replied. "Now we need to emphasize the fact that you are a princess. And besides, it's not like anyone had ever appeared in this dress here before- after all, this is the first time someone from the Alderaan's royal family participates in the Games."

That was certainly true.

Leia tried the dress on and immediately liked it- it was very similar to the one she had at home, reserved for important state functions. Up until now, there were only three instances when she had worn it.

Would it be the last?

The rest of the day passed in a blur, and Leia spent most of her time with Lando and Mart, with her mentor showing up every now and then to observe the proceedings before disappearing back to the liquor cabinet. Leia was pretty sure he was assigned to Alderaan this year to make her chances of winning this much lower.

No matter. She wouldn't let a bad mentor bring her down.

By the time night descended over Coruscant, Leia was so exhausted she immediately fell asleep. The interview took place the next day, and the morning was spent on rehearsing her strategy again, then Alderaan's stylists preparing her and Bornae for the show. Her counterpart was also dressed in white, but he wore a courtier's robes, not royalty's.

They arrived at the amphitheater one hour before the start, and Leia had a chance to observe all the tributes again. Dressed in exquisite fineries, Leia had trouble recognizing some of them from her time in the training hall. Unconsciously, her gaze seemed to search for the boy from the shooting range- _Luke-_ and she found him standing to the side with the other tribute from Tatooine- _Aola_. It seemed as if their stylists didn't go for the native look- both of them were dressed smartly in black, with only the barest hints of white.

Leia was pretty sure black wasn't the most popular color on Tatooine.

"Hey," a voice said, and Leia was broken out of her reverie. She turned around to find Lando standing behind her, hands on his hips, a long cape draped over his shoulders. He looked quite handsome, Leia had to admit. "We're all going to find our seats now, so I came to wish you good luck."

"Thanks," Leia said, her voice a bit dry. She was confident she could pull this off, yes, but that didn't mean she wasn't nervous.

Lando sent her a reassuring smile. "You'll do fine. Just remember, you want to be here."

She nodded and Lando left, meeting halfway with a tall man Leia was pretty sure she saw before with the Tatooine team. She supposed it wasn't a surprise that they all knew each other.

Eventually, the interviews began, with the Corellian tributes opening the show. Corellia was the most successful planet to date, having produced three victors before. This year, the boy had been a volunteer, and the girl was a sweet little thing who looked like she couldn't hurt a fly.

Leia wondered whether it was an act.

Alderaan was next, and Leia braced herself before walking onto the stage. The crowd fell quiet when she entered, and Leia held her head high and back straight, just as during the reaping. She was a princess- she would act like it.

"So, Leia," the interviewer started when she sat down. "I must say, this is very exciting to have a princess here with us this year!"

"Thank you," Leia replied, putting her hands in her lap. "I'm incredibly excited as well. You have no idea how glad I am to be representing my planet this year."

"Are you?" He asked curiously, and Leia was relieved that he didn't seem to want to humiliate her- she half expected it of every Imperial she's met since arriving on Coruscant.

"Yes," Leia replied, trying to appear eager. "I've watched the Games every year, and I always admired our tributes. They were so brave, and I know they did their best, even if none of them ever won. And I thought, well- call me arrogant, but I always thought that if I were to participate in the Games, I had a chance of winning."

She was betting on the fact that he wouldn't call her out on the fact that she didn't volunteer for the Games. She was right.

"I'm sure you do," he said easily, playing along with her strategy. "I cannot think of a bigger source of pride for Alderaan than if their own princess won the Games!"

Leia smiled charmingly, inclining her head. "I certainly hope I won't disappoint our people. I'm going to try to bring victory to Alderaan for the first time."

"Ladies and gentlemen," the interviewer proclaimed, beaming, "Leia Organa of Alderaan!"

The audience was cheering wildly while Leia left, and she was pretty sure she noticed Lando in the crowd giving her thumbs up.

Since her interview was only the third in line, that left forty-seven to go, and Leia found herself sitting comfortably on a couch before a holoprojector, watching the rest of the tributes smile for the camera.

Bornae was nervous the whole time, but the interviewer made him seem quite adorable. Watching him, Leia felt a pang in her chest- he was a fellow Alderaanian, and yet the thought of helping him win never really crossed her mind. Was this selfish of her? Should she sacrifice herself for him?

She was the princess of Alderaan, and she had a duty to her people. Up until now, Leia only thought of it in terms of staying alive and returning to her planet. But Bornae was her people, too. Was she approaching this wrong? Would her parents divide gifts equally between them? Were they feeling the same guilt Leia felt when wishing their daughter won?

Bornae left the scene and other tributes took his place, playing out different angles- confident, beautiful, sly, et cetera. The ones Leia was mostly worried about were tributes from Kashyyyk- Argodan and D'Raved. Considering that all Wookies Leia had seen up until now were big and ridiculously strong, it was a wonder that only two of them had managed to win the Galactic Games so far.

The show drew to a close, and the last tributes took to the scene. The last planet was, once again, Tatooine, and Leia found herself leaning forward when it was Luke's turn to shine. She didn't know why she was so fixated on him- she told herself that she needed to watch out for anyone with a score of eight and above, but even to her ears it sounded fake.

"Tell me," the interviewer began warmly, "what would you do if you won the Games?"

"Leave Tatooine," Luke replied immediately, and the interviewer, along with the audience, burst out laughing.

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised- I've seen the holos and it does seem dreadful. So where would you go instead?"

Luke shrugged, smiling shyly. "I don't know yet. I think I'd buy a ship first, what with the money from the reward, and I'd travel for a bit. See the galaxy, you know?"

"I absolutely understand. Why limit yourself when the galaxy has so much to offer?" He asked, and the audience agreed loudly. "And how do you find Coruscant so far?"

"It's marvelous. I definitely plan to come back here one day. Maybe I'll even stay, who knows?"

"I certainly wish you will!" The interviewer exclaimed, turning to the audience. "Everyone, give it up for Luke Skywalker, Tatooine!"

The people in the crowd roared and the show ended. The interviews were over- only the Games remained.

* * *

The last night before the Games, Luke couldn't sleep. He spent the night turning in his bed, worrying over the fact that the next day he would be sleepy and tired. He thought he heard Aola moving through their shared apartment, but he couldn't stand to see her now. Tomorrow they would be enemies, so it was better to not spend too much time in each other's company now.

It crossed his mind that it would be better if she died early on in the Games, so he wouldn't have to kill her later, and the thought made him sick.

This was all so unfair. Why did they have to participate in this bloodbath? What purpose did it serve?

The holos said that thanks to the Galactic Games, rebel activity in the galaxy diminished. Luke didn't know whether this was true- Tatooine was so far removed from the galaxy at large that any news reached them with delay. But even if, was killing children really worth it? He supposed most people didn't care- the population of planets like Corellia was so large that getting elected was close to a miracle; why care if you were in no real danger? He heard that some tributes were even paid to volunteer in the Games.

Luke never expected to hear his name during the reapings, but alas, here he was, perhaps drawing his last breaths.

Han had said that Luke stood a bigger chance at winning than the other kids, but it didn't guarantee his success. He could still be killed by an avalanche or a krayt dragon.

Luke shuddered. There were two instances when the Gamemakers included actual live dragons in the arena, and both ended up very bloody. He really hoped that they weren't planning for a third.

His thoughts returned to his mysterious sponsor and the ridiculous amount of money he seemed to throw on him. Han had never actually mentioned just _how much_ credits he was given, but the Corellian implied that it was pretty much limitless. He even said that if speeders were allowed in the arena, he would definitely send him one.

Luke had still half expected this to turn out to be a cruel joke, intended to give him hope only to crush it mercilessly later. Who in their right mind would sponsor a scrawny kid from an Outer Rim planet, who stood no real chance of winning against better opponents, especially those trained specifically for this purpose?

This had to be an elaborate prank.

And if it wasn't… Luke was kind of afraid to think about what it would mean for him if he actually won. No one invested this much money with no hope of some revenue in the future. Would he spend the rest of his life slaving away to pay off his debt? The thought made his insides churn with anxiety. Slavery was no better than death.

He supposed he would deal with that when the time came. First, he had to win the Games, which even with extra gifts would be difficult. Those Wookies had been scary…

Luke closed his eyes, blocking out the images of every tribute he had met so far, trying not to imagine them splattered with blood.

The sleep never came.

* * *

The planet which would serve as the arena was kept secret up until the very end, and even as they neared the surface, Luke and Aola weren't allowed to look outside the viewport. Their ship arrived directly in the underground hangar, and they were whisked away to make the final preparations for the Games.

One of which included getting a tracker injected in your body. Luke shuddered throughout the entire procedure, bile rising in his throat. On Tatooine, a chip meant one thing- slavery. And while everyone assured him that it wouldn't explode at any time, Luke wasn't so sure. What stopped the Gamemakers from adding that function to the device? After all, what were the tributes if not slaves, forced to fight to the death by the Empire?

Funny. Never before had he thought of the Galactic Games as a form of slavery, but now it seemed obvious.

The tracker injected, Luke moved on to get dressed in the outfit prepared for him. It was simple and practical, with pockets to hide any foundings and high boots to withstand every weather. It was the same for every tribute.

Han had met him in the so-called Launch Room, where the turbolift that would take him to the surface of the planet was located. The sight of it made Luke's stomach clench painfully, and he basically collapsed into the couch that stood in the corner of the room.

"You alright?" Han asked, before realizing the stupidity of the question. "Yeah, well. You'll be alright. I have faith in you."

"Great," Luke muttered.

Han shifted awkwardly. "You will. Just remember to run away from the Cornucopia as fast as possible- you don't need any supplies. I will send you a backpack as soon as it's safe, so you need to find a hiding place."

Luke nodded, only half-listening to what Han was saying. They went over this many times before, and he was in no danger of forgetting anything.

There was a moment of still silence before Han spoke up. "Kid–"

Just then, a droid rolled in, announcing that it was time for launch. Luke was glad he didn't eat too much this morning or else he would puke it now.

He stood on wobbly legs, mechanically walking for the open turbolift.

"Luke." He felt a hand on his shoulder and paused, turning his head to look at Han. The man was visibly uncomfortable, biting his lip and struggling to speak.

"Good luck," he said eventually, and Luke couldn't decipher the emotion in his voice. Was it concern? Was he actually worried about Luke? Or was he only worried about the money he apparently bet on him?

"Thanks," Luke got out before stepping into the turbolift, watching the transparisteel doors close in front of him.

This was it. The next few days would decide everything- one way or another.

The journey to the surface took about five seconds, during which Luke clenched and unclenched his hands, taking deep breaths. Eventually, the doors opened again, and Luke stepped out onto a metal panel that would serve as his starting point. Behind him, the turbolift sank again beneath the ground.

He only had time to register that the terrain was green, when a loud voice boomed, "Ladies and gentlemen, let the Fourteenth Galactic Games begin!"

And so the countdown began.


	2. Chapter 2

Bail Organa stared at the holo with heart in his throat, watching the timer slowly count down seconds till start. One minute. The tributes only had one minute before the slaughter would begin.

Beside him, Breha clutched his hand tightly, eyes not moving from the holoprojector. They both kept their gaze firmly on Leia, not wanting to miss any move.

The tributes were positioned in a circle surrounding the Cornucopia- a golden horn filled to the brim with weapons, food, medicine, and anything else that one could use in an arena. Supplies were also strewn across the grass closer to the children, inviting them to move forward and enter the bloodbath.

Most tributes died in the first minutes, fighting for the supplies.

The timer changed from 1 to 0 and they both tensed, leaning forward. All tributes moved, most sprinting for the supplies, some turning on their heel and running for the woods. To their immense relief, Leia was among the latter- no one stopped her while she ran towards the dense trees that stretched all around the arena.

Bail had no idea what planet the children were on, but it was no surprise- the Empire usually chose unpopulated planets in the Outer Rim or sometimes even in the Unknown Regions.

Leia disappeared among the trees, and the camera stopped following her, focusing instead on the area around the horn, where most battles were taking place. Already two children were lying dead on the ground and the rest was soon on their way to join them. Those who have reached the horn first were arming themselves with blasters, and one girl had even picked up a blaster cannon, creating a deep hole in the center of the arena, taking out another two tributes before she herself was hit with a blaster bolt.

Bail sagged in his seat, disappointed at having to wait to follow his daughter's actions. Breha squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"She's made it," Breha said, and they both could hear what she left unsaid: _For now._

"Do you see Bornae?" Bail asked instead, trying to distract himself from matters at hand. Then again, perhaps that wasn't the best subject change- the other Alderaanian was a constant source of guilt for Bail. In theory, he shouldn't have favorites when it came to tributes from Alderaan, but it was basically impossible this year.

Did it make him a bad ruler that he preferred his daughter to survive over someone else?

Breha turned back to the holo, squinting her eyes against the blue filter and wincing at the amount of blood that covered most tributes- both dead and alive. "I think he's fighting with the boy from Ord Mantell," she said softly. "And losing."

A moment later they both watched as Bornae fell to the ground dead, the other boy picking up the backpack he was carrying and running away. He didn't get far- not ten seconds later he was shot down by someone else.

Bail felt grief followed immediately by relief, which made him feel guilty again. He didn't cause Bornae's death, but he was nonetheless glad that Leia wouldn't have to face him later on. One look at Breha's face told him that his wife was facing the same dilemma that he did, and they held each other's gaze for a moment in silent understanding.

Breha broke the contact first, focusing on the holo again. "I don't think I can see Luke around the horn," she said eventually, her voice tired.

Luke. Another source of nightmares for Bail. To have both Luke and Leia in the Games together couldn't be a coincidence- Palpatine had to have planned this. Had he and Kenobi failed, Bail wondered? He and Breha worked very hard to obscure Leia's true heritage, and he knew Kenobi did the same with Luke before his death. As far as Bail knew, the boy was never discovered, remaining with the Larses up until now.

And yet they were both there, on the arena, struggling to survive. Would Bail be forced to watch one sibling kill another, never knowing the truth? Luke caused the same feelings in him that Bornae did.

And what about Vader? Even if he wasn't aware of the boy's existence before, that couldn't be true now. Did he know about Leia, too? Or was Luke's reaping random after all? There was simply no way to know.

Truth to be told, Bail had hoped that once Vader found out about Luke, he would pull the boy out of the Games. That way at least he wouldn't have to worry about brother facing sister as enemies. But the announcement never came, and Bail was left to wonder. Did Vader just not care? Or was this some kind of test, to see if the boy could survive the arena?

What kind of father sent their child to their death?

The area around the horn was finally clearing, with half people dead and the other half already starting to form an alliance. One of the Wookies was leading, and Bail could see that his counterpart was lying on the floor unmoving, probably taken down with the cannon blast.

The first carnage finished, the holo finally changed to show tributes that escaped the bloodbath. Leia was sitting on a tree, opening a large gift sent to her by her mentor. Bail hoped the Ord Mantellian heeded his advice to remain sober enough to equip his daughter with everything she needed.

The holo moved on before Bail could see what exactly was in the package, and he was forced to watch other tributes struggle to find shelter or food. Most of those in the woods had meager provisions with them- by avoiding the fight around the horn, they had to leave most of the supplies behind.

It eventually stopped on Luke, and Bail was surprised to see the boy carrying quite a large backpack, a blaster in hand. Did he manage to pick something up at the beginning and leave unscratched? Bail regretted not paying more attention before, but then again, he would do it again for Leia.

The scene changed again and Bail sighed, mentally preparing himself for a tense few days. Leia was safe for now, but she couldn't avoid people forever. The Gamemakers wouldn't allow it. He could only hope that when the time came, she would be brave enough to not hesitate to do what was necessary,

Squeezing his wife's hand, Bail glued his eyes to the holo, determined not to miss even one minute.

* * *

Running through the dense forest, blaster in hand, Luke searched frantically for a hiding spot. So far, he had found none. Growing up on a desert planet didn't do him many favors in this terrain- he's never even seen a real tree before, let alone climbed it. He only stopped for a short while up until now, waiting for Han to send him a "starter pack", as he called it. He didn't even check what exactly was in the backpack except for a blaster. Staying out in the open too long was asking for trouble.

The forest eventually gave way to a rocky slope, and Luke had to slow down to avoid tumbling down to his death. Feeling very self-conscious (the trees at least provided some cover) he tried to maneuver between the larger boulders and not slip on any stone.

He paused for a moment to balance himself, taking a long look around, and that was when he saw the cave. It was slightly to his right, partially obscured by green grass and big boulders, but its entrance was clearly visible and seemingly human-sized.

Luke hesitated a second, wondering if anyone would be able to find it just like he did, before deciding that he didn't have a choice. Unless he learned to climb trees, a cave in a rocky slope was probably his best option.

Gripping his blaster in case the cave wasn't empty, Luke peered inside, but the interior was narrow and twisted to the left, so he didn't see what was much farther. Cautiously, he took a few steps forward, moving past the bend, only to jump when he came face to face with a boy around his age, huddled into a corner and gripping a slim bag.

They stared at each other for a few moments, Luke with a raised blaster and the other trying to shield himself with the bag. If Luke remembered correctly, he was a tribute from Ralltiir, Derek or Daren. He didn't interact with him at any point during the training, but Luke remembered he was handy with a vibroblade. At the moment, though, he didn't have any weapon on him.

Luke knew he should pull the trigger. He could hear Han screaming in his head not to waste an opportunity like that. But there was something about shooting an unarmed opponent that turned his stomach and made him feel sick.

He thought he prepared himself mentally for the Games, but apparently, he was wrong.

He hesitated too long and the boy spoke up, seeing his chance. "Hey, you don't have to kill me," he said, raising his arms in surrender. "We could form an alliance!"

"An alliance," Luke repeated doubtfully, looking the boy up and down. "And what do you have to offer in an alliance?" He glanced meaningfully to his meager possessions.

The boy visibly struggled for an answer. "I can make traps," he said finally. "Both to catch humans and animals. And I can shoot, provided I get a blaster." His resigned tone suggested how much likely he thought that was.

Luke considered. Having someone at his back wouldn't be bad, and past years proved that tributes who allied stood a higher chance of surviving than those who were on their own. Still, trusting someone was always a risk- you couldn't trust them forever.

"How do I know you won't murder me in my sleep?" He asked eventually.

Seeing his opportunity, the boy declared vigorously, "I swear I won't! Well, not until we're the only two left," he paused awkwardly. "Seriously, I won't betray you."

The boy didn't seem the type to lie, but the arena often turned silent bookworms to vicious killers. Who knew what would happen in a few days?

But oh, who was Luke kidding? He wouldn't be able to kill the boy, especially now after talking with him. At least now he had an excuse not to that.

He lowered his blaster and the boy sagged in relief. Luke half expected him to attack now that he lowered his guard, but the boy only sat down, his back against the wall, and said, "I'm Hobbie."

Luke frowned. Did he mistake the boy for someone else? He was pretty sure his name started with 'D'.

Seeing his expression, Hobbie said, "It's a nickname. My name is actually Derek Klivian. From Ralltiir."

Luke nodded, sitting down opposite him. "I'm Luke Skywalker. From Tatooine."

Hobbie motioned toward his backpack. "Got lucky at Cornucopia?"

"It's a gift," Luke replied, hesitating only slightly. If he was going to spend more time with Hobbie, the boy would probably find out anyway.

"A gift already?" Hobbie's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "You must have really impressed someone."

Luke shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Hobbie's gaze. As far as he knew, his mysterious sponsor had declared for him before he even had a chance to impress anyone. "I guess," he muttered.

"Well, I assume the blaster was the main gift, so we'll have to go looking for food soon," Hobbie said, raising his own bag. "That's all I got at the horn before having to run, there's a water container and a lighter, but nothing else."

Luke reached for his backpack, opening it and peering inside. It was so full that de decided to just empty it on the floor.

"Well," Luke said, picking up several field rations and raising them to his face. "Actually, I don't think food's going to be a problem."

* * *

Leia leaned against the tree trunk, staring at the gigantic holos being transmitted across the night sky. Thirty dead. Twenty still alive, including Leia.

Bornae was dead. Leia's heart clenched painfully at the thought, though some small part of her sighed in relief. At least she wouldn't have to face him later on.

Most of those who volunteered for the Games were still alive, but only one Wookie seemed to survive. Leia was surprised. They usually lasted much longer.

If she could, she would stay in this tree until only one tribute was left alive, surviving by the gifts she received from her parents. Unfortunately, previous Games showed that idleness wasn't appreciated by the Gamemakers- if a person stayed in one place too long undiscovered, they were usually forced to move by another means- a fire, or perhaps wild animals.

Leia decided to spend the night on the branch and then look for another hiding spot in the morning. Maybe if she was voluntarily moving, they wouldn't sick krayt dragons on her.

Belting herself in to the trunk and hoping she wouldn't talk in her sleep, Leia fell asleep.

She woke up along with the first rays of the sun, blinking rapidly and groaning at her aching limbs. Being forced into an uncomfortable position for hours didn't exactly make her well-rested. Perhaps stretching her legs would be actually for the best.

After staying still for a few minutes and making sure nobody was in her vicinity, Leia slid the backpack on her shoulders and started climbing down from the tree. She was glad her mentor had actually put in an effort to equip her with everything necessary- a blaster, food rations, and other small items essential to surviving in the wild. Perhaps her father had threatened the man, or maybe Lando watched him like a hawk.

Stepping on the mushy ground, Leia took one more look around before setting off. She held her blaster firmly in hand, jumping at every sound in the otherwise quiet forest. So far, she hadn't encountered any animals, though from time to time she could hear sounds that reminded her that the area wasn't empty.

After about twenty minutes of trekking, Leia stopped dead in her tracks, the distant sound of voices reaching her ears. Hiding behind a tree, Leia peered around the trunk, trying to spot the approaching figures. Three minutes later and they appeared- a Twi'lek girl and a human boy. Leia was pretty sure their respective planets had been Tatooine and Chandrila.

The girl, Aola, was carrying a club in her arms, while to the boy, Savvo, held a vibroblade at the ready. Leia hesitated, unsure. She was eighty percent sure she could take out both of them with her blaster before they had a chance to attack, but should she? Her initial strategy had been to avoid people as long as possible, and only defend herself when it was necessary. Leia had never killed anyone before and she didn't want to give the Empire the satisfaction of forcing her to do it now.

Of course, she knew that eventually, she wouldn't have a choice, but Leia preferred to avoid thinking about that for now.

Aola suddenly stopped, and Leia felt her stomach clench in anticipation. Was she spotted? Would she have to fight them in the end?

A loud roar made them all turn their heads in one direction, and Leia felt her heart drop. Not farther than thirty meters from her hiding spot stood a large creature of a species Leia didn't know, covered in black fur with and with teeth bared at the ready.

The Twi'lek girl screamed, raising the club to her chest, while the boy cursed angrily, already backing away from the creature. Leia couldn't stop herself- she shifted nervously in her spot, making noise and drawing attention to herself.

The other tributes didn't matter anymore- her bigger concern was currently preparing to charge at her on all fours.

Aola and Savvo turned on their heels and ran, while Leia raised her blaster to her eye level and shot. At least two of her shots hit the target and the creature roared angrily, backing up a few steps, but definitely not dropping dead. Leia shot again, but seeing that it wasn't doing much good, she also started to run.

If only she could climb a tree, she would be able to shoot at the creature from above without coming to harm herself. But despite obviously wounding the animal and slowing it down, she didn't kill it- there was no chance she could climb a tree before the creature caught up with her.

Vaguely, she could see the other two tributes in front of her, running in the same direction. Maybe… maybe if she could outrun them, the animal would focus on them instead and she would have the time to hide.

Sprinting up, Leia tried to catch up to Aola, but the girl was surprisingly fast. Savvo was way ahead of them already. Leia was the last, which made her the first for the creature to catch. She couldn't change direction- she had no way to know whether the animal would follow her or the others.

In an act of desperation, she raised her blaster and shot blindly, trying to hit Aola. The shot missed- Leia was still running and couldn't focus properly. The animal was coming close, angrier now that it was hurt. Leia didn't see how much damage she had done, though it was obvious that if she hadn't shot the creature, it would have already caught up with her.

Leia tried again, this time sending a barrage of shots after Aola, and finally one hit true. The girl screamed, falling to her knees, while Leia sprinted up past her.

She didn't look back- she ran and ran until finally she was out of breath and had to stop. There was no sight of the animal anywhere near her, though in the distance she could hear guttural screams and roars.

Horror washed over her, but she quashed it down long enough to climb a tree, leaning against the trunk and bringing her knees to her chest.

Somewhere in the distance, a cannon sounded, signaling someone's death.

Leia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, fighting nausea.

She had just caused someone's death. The empire had already gotten to her.

* * *

Luke and Hobbie spent two days in the cave, eating and talking, during which time another six tributes died. Eventually, though, the trouble caught up with them.

It started innocently- a silent noise reached their ears, like an insect buzzing. Then the ceiling started literally falling on their heads, bits of rocks breaking away and hitting the ground. In his hurry to leave, Luke had only time to grab the backpack, which at the moment was mostly empty, and run for the exit.

They got out just before the whole cave collapsed on itself, absolutely destroying their hiding spot. Unfortunately for them, the trouble didn't end there- the ground was still shaking under their feet, and boulders were sliding down the slope.

"Is this an earthquake?!" Hobbie exclaimed, trying to keep his balance amidst the sliding rocks.

"Who cares?!" Luke shouted back. "We need to get down to even ground!"

The task proved harder than previously thought. Trying not to stumble on the slope required concentration under normal conditions, and when the whole ground was shaking it was practically impossible. Not five steps later Luke slipped, tumbling to the ground and hitting the hard rocks. He could hear Hobbie falling as well, though his attention was fully focused on his own body and the pain he was feeling with every fiber of his being.

If he didn't slow down, if he didn't stop, he would eventually hit too sharp a rock and surely die. And yet he wasn't able to find purchase on anything, the slope too slanted, the rocks too slippery, his limbs too aching from the wounds already accumulated.

Luke kept tumbling down and didn't remember hitting the ground.

* * *

When he woke up, every inch of his body was aching. Blinking his eyes, Luke saw only dark- for a few seconds, he thought he had lost sight, then realized that night had already fallen. How long had he been lying there? Hours? Probably not longer, or someone would have stumbled on him by now.

Steeling himself, Luke tried to move his muscles and get up, only to immediately feel dizzy and fell back to the ground. He lay there for a while, trying to regain his strength. Where was Hobbie? He couldn't see much in his line of vision, and he didn't want to risk making a sound in case there were other people or wild animals nearby.

After a few minutes, Luke made another attempt at getting up. This time he propped himself on his elbows first, blinking the white spots out of his vision. When he was sure he wouldn't fall down again, Luke tried moving his legs. The right one hurt especially much, and he hoped it wasn't broken- a bacta patch wouldn't be able to heal a broken leg.

Eventually, he managed to get to his feet, but quickly realized that putting too much weight on his right ankle was overly painful- he hoped it was sprained and not broken. Taking a look around, he immediately noticed a silver parachute laying not far away from him. On another glance, he saw Hobbie's prone body at the feet of the slope. He tried to move toward it, only to remember his bad condition.

Right. Medicaments first.

He limped towards the silver package, plopping down next to it. It was filled to the brim with bacta patches and some food rations, as well as a new blaster and a vibroblade, since Luke left his last ones in the cave. Han had even made sure to include some straps to pin the patches to his body.

Gluing the bacta to his ankle and to the worst injuries on his arms and legs, Luke quickly rushed towards Hobbie, hoping he wasn't dead. He probably wasn't- dead tributes were usually quickly removed from the arena, and Luke was pretty sure he would be awakened by the sound of the cannon.

He slid to his knees next to his companion, assessing his injuries. Hobbie was still breathing, but there was a large bleeding gash on his forehead, as well as other smaller injuries on his whole body. Luke cleaned the blood from his head before strapping the bacta patch to it, proceeding to do the same for all the other wounds.

After he was done, Luke bit his lip. Hobbie was still unconscious and staying out in the open for too long was dangerous- they were lucky no one found them yet. Down here, the slope gave way to another batch of the forest, though this one seemed to be denser than the one up above.

That was probably good. Denser forest meant it would be easier to hide.

Luke got to his feet, grabbing Hobbie by his arms and trying to drag him in the direction of the trees. It wasn't easy- his aching ankle meant he couldn't walk properly either, let alone carry someone along. It took him twenty minutes to cross half the necessary distance, and he had to sit down after that to rest. His ankle wouldn't heal if he kept straining it, but he couldn't just leave Hobbie there to die.

A loud howl reached his ears and Luke stiffened, looking frantically around to pinpoint its location. It was still dark, and he couldn't see much in the distance. The forest suddenly became much more ominous than it was before- was he walking right into a trap?

His hands wrapped around the blaster and he swallowed, hesitating. Should he stay here, after all? The chances of finding a cover at night were slim anyway, but the thought of spending the whole night out in the open filled him with anxiety.

Another silver parachute suddenly landed at his feet, and Luke reached for it hungrily, hoping it would be something useful. The package contained only a pair of glasses, and Luke frowned at them in confusion. Why had Han sent him glasses at night? Nonetheless, he put them on, and his vision suddenly cleared, making everything around him visible.

Luke grinned. Night vision glasses!

Immediately, he took a look around, but he still didn't see anything that could have made that noise not a few minutes before. Still, he felt much more confident about going into the forest now that he could actually see something.

Luke stood up again, dragging Hobbie along with renewed strength.

* * *

Leia was awoken from her slumber by a loud explosion next to her head. She jumped in fright and would have fallen off the tree if she wasn't strapped to it. Below her, someone cursed loudly, and another shot resounded somewhere down the tree.

"Kriff, Faro, can't you shoot straight?!"

"In case you haven't noticed, it's dark!"

Leia squinted her eyes, trying to see who was on the ground. She thought she noticed about three people, but she couldn't be sure in the dark. Simultaneously, she grabbed the blaster strapped to her hip, getting it at the ready.

"Just give me that blaster, I'll hit her!"

"Hell no, you can dream!"

Leia raised her blaster, trying to point it at someone down below. It wasn't easy- she couldn't see much of anything, and she severely regretted the lack of night vision glasses. Damn her mentor and his lack of foresight.

Not wanting to wait much longer lest they finally manage to hit her, Leia aimed and shot blindly. Someone on the ground squealed- a girl, Leia was sure, and the voice from earlier shouted, "She's got a blaster!"

A barrage of blaster bolts assaulted the tree and Leia let out a cry when one finally hit her in her side. Gritting her teeth, she suppressed the urge to hide- there was no place for that anyway- and raised her blaster again, reciprocating in kind.

She must have hit someone because there was a loud pained gasp and a shout of "Yana!", before the fire stopped and Leia could hear someone mutter angrily, "Come on, we'll get her later."

"No, you can't leave me here!" A girl cried in despair, and Leia risked a glance to see what was happening below. A figure was lying on the ground, struggling to stand up, while the other two were nowhere to be seen- they must have moved away to avoid being hit by Leia's blasts.

"You're right, Yana," a male voice said, clearly audible in the otherwise silent forest, and a moment later Leia could hear the sound of a blaster bolt hitting its target. The figure on the ground let out a soft gasp and stopped moving altogether.

"We'll get you yet, Princess, remember that!" The same voice from before shouted, but it was more distant, as if he was already much farther. A few minutes later all sounds of footsteps subsided, and the forest was once again submerged in eerie silence.

Leia slumped against the tree bark, clutching her injured side. She desperately needed bacta patches, and she was almost sure there were none in her backpack. She checked anyway, just in case, but as she thought, it was bereft of any bacta. Raising her eyes to the sky, she said loudly, "Bacta."

Was her mentor even watching? The fight must have been recorded- all fights were. But was her mentor sober enough to react?

A cannon sounded and Leia involuntarily looked down at the prone body. Another person died because of her. How many would she kill in the end?

That left thirteen still alive, since she heard five more cannons since the initial slaughter around the Cornucopia.

A whirring sound reached Leia's ears, and she looked down to see a slim ship the size of a big speeder approaching the body on the ground. It was completely closed and no person inside was visible. It stopped just above Yana's body, extending mechanical arms to pick up and pull the dead girl inside.

It occurred to Leia to jump on top of that ship, just to see what would happen, but it was gone before she even finished that thought.

She let out a long sigh, grimacing in pain. The wound would only get worse in time with no treatment. Leia imagined her parents seeing her in pain and felt dread slowly settle over her body. The last thing she wanted was to worry her parents.

She spent another fifteen minutes like that, curling in on herself, before finally- finally!- a silver parachute appeared, stopping on a branch above her head. Gritting her teeth and ignoring her aching body, Leia pulled herself up and reached for the gift, bringing it to her lap. It contained several bacta patches as well as a warm soup, a novelty as opposed to the previous field rations. Leia applied the bacta to her wound before starting on the soup, blinking when she realized the taste was familiar.

It was Alderaani cuisine. It reminded her so strongly of home that Leia had to blink back tears, angrily reminding herself that the whole galaxy was watching and she couldn't appear weak.

Still, it was a nice gesture, and Leia had to wonder who was responsible for it. Surely not her mentor, who couldn't tell green from blue at best of times.

No matter. She had a piece of home in this hellish place and that was all that mattered.

Leia smiled to herself.

* * *

Luke finally reached the edge of the forest when a cannon sounded, making him freeze. Birds took off from the trees in a frenzy at the sudden loud noise, and Hobbie moaned. After a moment, Luke started moving again, dragging his companion behind a thick bush. Exhausted, he plopped down next to him, opening his backpack and taking out a water container.

The cannon didn't come from far off, which wasn't good. When one tribute died, another was usually left alive. Luke strained his ears to hear whether anyone was approaching, but all that broke the silence were some night birds now and then.

They should keep moving, but Luke didn't think he could manage to drag Hobbie much farther with his twisted ankle. He was still sore from the tumble down the slope and the bacta didn't have a chance to start working when he was constantly moving around.

He had a long night ahead of him. There was no way he could fall asleep when there was a potential enemy in the area.

Taking out another ration, Luke bemoaned the fact that Han hadn't sent him something that had an actual taste. With the amount of money at his disposal, surely he could spare Luke some normal food?

The rational part of him knew that Han was right- rations were lighter and thus easier to carry around, as well as quicker to digest. Still, at the moment he was tired and angry, and he would give everything to eat a bantha steak.

Hobbie moaned again, his eyes fluttering open and closed, his right hand going to his forehead and the bacta patch there. "L-Luke…?" He stammered, voice laden with pain.

"I'm here," Luke said, catching his hand before Hobbie destroyed the provisional treatment Luke gave him. "Don't move."

"W-where are we?"

Luke glanced back at the dark forest, his new glasses giving him a better perspective. "Another forest," he replied, turning his attention back to Hobbie. "It's the middle of the night, and a cannon sounded some time ago, so we should be quiet. There's no chance we can find a hiding spot right now."

Hobbie fell quiet for a moment before speaking up, his voice weak. "How badly am I hurt?"

Luke winced, falling quiet as well. Hobbie was in worse condition than Luke, which didn't exactly spell a bright future for him. If they didn't find cover soon, they would both be in trouble. "I don't know," he said eventually, resigned. "I gave you bacta for the worst injuries, but I didn't have time to assess everything. How do you feel?"

"Like a bantha stamped on me," Hobbie said in a weak attempt at humor, but it quickly faded when he tried to move his left arm and winced in pain. "My left arm hurts like hell. Think it might be broken."

Luke grimaced, knowing he probably contributed to the injury when he dragged Hobbie across the ground. But how was he supposed to know? It's not like he had a medical scanner with him.

...maybe he should ask Han for one. But would it change anything? Luke seriously doubted his mentor could send him anything better than the bacta patches he already had. "How about your legs? Can you walk?" He asked instead, because that was the most important question.

Hobbie wriggled his legs, pulling them experimentally to himself. "Think so," he said with a sigh of relief, knowing probably as well as Luke did how dire his situation would be otherwise.

"Okay," Luke said, passing him water and some of the rations. "We'll need to move in the morning."

They didn't get to wait till morning- not half an hour later the sound of voices reached their ears, making them both freeze. Luke gripped his blaster tightly, hoping they wouldn't be noticed. In their current condition, they were at a definitive disadvantage, especially if whoever was coming close was armed as well. Technically, Luke could take them out first, using his glasses, but he would rather avoid that as long as possible.

"I can't believe we got lost because of you!" A male voice groused.

"Shut up! It's not like you know how to get back either!" Another voice replied angrily.

"We need to find a new place to hide, not search for the last one!"

"Yeah? All our stuff's there!"

The voices were coming from dangerously close, and Luke and Hobbie both stiffened, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. Since they were still behind the bush, Luke couldn't actually see anyone, but he was pretty sure which direction the voices were coming from. If they were lucky, they wouldn't be noticed in the dark- the newcomers didn't have any flashlight. They could still have had glasses similar to Luke's, though, so they needed to be careful.

"We don't know that. Someone could have found it."

"Then we'll kill them!"

They came so close that Luke could see them now, which meant that they would be able to see them as well if they bothered to take a look around.

"Yes, we just saw what a wonderful shooter you are, Faro," the first voice said snidely.

The other boy stopped, whirling around. "Maybe I should improve my skills on _you_."

"Hey, hey, there's no need for that!"

"Then _shut up_."

They both went quiet after that, and Luke watched them slowly walk away from their hiding spot. He was about to let out a sigh of relief when Hobbie suddenly lifted his head in an attempt to see between the trees. The motion must have strained some of his injuries, because he let out a soft gasp, letting his head fall back down with a thud.

Luke stiffened, tightening his grasp on the blaster. The receding footsteps stopped, plunging the forest into an uncomfortable silence.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yeah."

Luke was suddenly very glad that Han had sent him the glasses. Not moving from his spot, he aimed the blaster in the direction of the two boys, waiting for them to move closer into his shooting range.

They obviously weren't expecting him to have a blaster. When the first figure came into view, Luke sent a barrage of blaster bolts his way, hitting the target at least three times. The boy fell to the ground, gasping in pain. Unfortunately for Luke, the second tribute was still a little behind his companion, and at the sound of shots, he bolted sideways into the forest, way out of Luke's shooting range.

Luke stood up, searching frantically with his gaze for the other boy. From their earlier conversation, he gleaned that at least one of the boys had a blaster, and he didn't know which one he shot. Either way, it wasn't a good idea to be sitting around, providing an easy target.

He heard the leaves moving and whirled around, his ankle screaming in protest. The other tribute kept running among the trees, and even with his night vision glasses, Luke couldn't pinpoint him long enough to give a precise shot. Luke, on the other hand, couldn't afford to move too far away and leave Hobbie defenseless. Not that he could move far with his ankle anyway.

A sudden blaster bolt dashed right next to his head, and Luke dropped to his knees, heart beating loudly in his chest. Two seconds later more shots came his way, flying mostly over his head. Luke raised his blaster and fired blindly in the general direction the shots were coming from, mostly trying to distract his opponent rather than actually hit him.

The shots stopped and Luke tensed, waiting for the other's next move. He didn't see much from his position on the ground, and he was too afraid to stand up and look around. Next to him, Hobbie was plopped on his forearms, craning his head to look into the forest. Luke regretted not giving him at least a vibroblade, but he was seriously afraid of Hobbie later turning on him with said weapon.

The silence stretched for another minute before a sudden noise to his left drew Luke's attention, which allowed the other tribute to shoot again. Luke yelped in pain as one blaster bolt hit his shoulder, almost making him drop his blaster. He fell flat to the ground, hoping he wouldn't be hit at that angle.

Grown bold by the assault, the other boy came forward to take a better aim, and that in turn gave Luke the chance to shoot. With a visible target in sight, Luke aimed and fired, the three blaster bolts hitting its target just a moment after the boy released a barrage of shots himself.

None of them hit Luke, and he was still laying flat on the ground, breathing heavily, when moments later three cannons reverberated throughout the night.

With a lump in his throat, Luke raised his head to stare into Hobbie's lifeless eyes.

* * *

After the incident with the other tributes, Leia didn't get much sleep that night. When she was reasonably sure that the danger had passed, she climbed down from the tree, her wounded side screaming in protest, and went to look for another hiding place. It was better not to stay in the same spot in case the others came back with reinforcements.

Too late, she realized that in her current state climbing might prove to be impossible, and so she was left wandering among the trees, blaster at the ready, her other hand clutching the bacta patches to her side. Eventually, she slumped behind one particularly thick tree, hoping the Gamemakers wouldn't send trouble her way two times in a row

When morning came, Leia checked her fresh wound and discovered it was partially healed. Maybe the blasters, despite having only kill settings, weren't set to full power, giving tributes chances to recover.

Three more cannons sounded the previous night, and Leia was left wondering whether any of them signaled her assailants. The holos wouldn't be projected until the next evening, so most likely she wouldn't know till then.

Determined to find a more secure cover, Leia set off in a random direction, hoping to find a cave of some sort. She still wasn't up for climbing, and so she needed something else. The sun was high in the sky when she eventually came across a river, quickly deciding that as far as hiding spots went, this wasn't the best one. Tributes who didn't have sponsors lining up to help them out always came looking for water. If she wanted to avoid people, she should go somewhere else.

Still, the water glittered in the sun, and despite not being thirsty, Leia suddenly felt very dirty. She hadn't bathed in four days, and the grime that accumulated on her skin started to itch. Deciding that since no one was around there was no harm in indulging herself for a few minutes, Leia took a step forward towards the water.

… and a trap sprung up around her, lifting her into the air and making her drop her blaster.

"Well, well," a feminine voice said, and a human girl about two years younger than Leia came forward. "Looks like these survival lessons were useful after all.

* * *

Luke spent the rest of the night fully awake, dealing with his injuries as well as with his guilt at Hobbie's death. Rationally, he knew he shouldn't feel guilty- he didn't kill the Raltiirian, and anyway, some part of him always knew that things would end this way. Still, it was hard to silence his churning conscience.

What was funny was that he felt more guilty about not being able to protect Hobbie than he was about killing the other two tributes.

All in all, when morning came, he pushed all those emotions aside, deciding to deal with them after the Games ended. He couldn't let distraction be the death of him. He owed his Aunt and Uncle that much.

His wound from the blaster bolt had partially healed, though his ankle was still an obstacle- he strained it the previous day when dragging Hobbie behind, and so even the bacta hadn't helped much. He was still limping when he decided to finally move from his hiding spot.

He needed to find a good cover, and soon. Last night he had been lucky, but if there were more opponents, all armed with blasters, he probably wouldn't have stood a chance.

After eating some of the ration bars, Luke came up with an idea. Turning his head to the sky, though that probably wasn't necessary, he said loudly, "Hey, Han, how about some explosives?"

Ten minutes later, a bag containing exactly what he had asked for arrived, dropping in front of his feet. Luke picked it up, relocating everything into his backpack. Perhaps he should head straight for the Cornucopia, to blow up any supplies the other tributes gathered. He knew from the previous Galactic Games that having sponsors willing to provide tributes with anything they needed was rare. Most likely, if he destroyed most of their supplies, Luke would be the best-equipped tribute in the arena.

Well, he and the Princess, probably. He was willing to bet that her parents provided her with anything and everything necessary.

Coming to the conclusion that whatever action he wanted to take would have to wait until his wounds fully healed, Luke set off further into the forest.

After two hours he came across a narrow stream, happy to finally wash his face and hands. Han might be able to send him more water, but Luke grew up in a desert, and the thought of wasting drinking water never even crossed his mind.

He followed the stream, which later morphed into a bigger river. It was still shallow, though, so Luke had no fear of slipping on a boulder and drowning. He couldn't help himself, though- he had never seen so much water in one place, and so he skipped along the riverbank, splashing big droplets with every step.

For the first time since the Games began, he was in somewhat of a good mood.

That quickly came to a stop when he rounded one bend of the river and was greeted with the sight of two tributes, both human and both female. One of the girls was caught in a net hanging from a nearby tree, while the other was trying to come close enough to pick something from the ground beneath the dangling net.

"Come closer, what are you afraid of? I can't do any harm to you," the girl in the net snarled, clawing at the cords that made the net, and Luke realized she was the same girl from the shooting range- Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan. The net was hanging low enough that if the other girl came close, she would be in serious danger of being at least kicked.

"Shut up," the other girl snapped, and Luke was pretty sure she was from Corellia- Danvet Mercilla, if he remembered correctly. "You're already dead, Your Highness. Don't make it harder for yourself," she said, ducking below the net and picking up the object she was eying before. Leia tried her hardest to stop her, but in the end, Danvet managed to succeed with only a kick to the shin for her troubles.

"It's over," she said, raising a blaster to her eye level and pointing it at Leia. The Princess stiffened, looking at the weapon with fear even as she tried to put on a brave front.

"You won't shoot me," Leia said with confidence, though the tremble in her voice betrayed her nerves.

Danvet shook her head. "I don't want to, no. I'm not a born killer. But I do intend to return home to my family, and at the moment you're standing in my way. So," she paused, softening her voice. "I'll give you fifteen seconds to say whatever goodbyes you might want, and then I'll kill you. I'll try to shoot straight, I promise," she added as an afterthought, meaning to be reassuring.

Luke knew he should leave. The river drowned out any sound of his footsteps, and the girls hadn't noticed him yet. He should leave while he still had a chance.

Instead, he found himself rooted to the spot, his gaze drawn to the blaster in Danvet's hand. Something in his chest tightened painfully at its sight and at what it promised: an execution.

He knew he should let Danvet kill Leia. Better yet, he should kill Danvet himself while she was still unaware of his presence, and then proceed to kill Leia. But the thought of killing the slim brunette currently struggling in the trap filled him with such horror that he felt ready to puke.

He felt as if the universe held its breath while he watched, seconds ticking by. He didn't hear what Leia was saying, his whole attention was focused on Danvet and the blaster in her hand. Any moment, and she would pull the trigger.

Without thinking, Luke raised his blaster and fired, the bolt hitting Danvet's head on the first try.

* * *

Leia stared in shock while Danvet fell to the ground, blaster slipping from her fingers. Luke Skywalker, the boy from the shooting range, stood fifteen meters away, blaster still high in the air.

Leia braced herself, waiting for the following shot, but it never came. Instead, Luke lowered his blaster and remained standing motionlessly in the same place, looking absolutely lost.

Leia had no idea what to say. Neither, it seemed, had Luke.

They stared at each other in silence for another minute before Luke finally sighed, coming closer. He stopped about three meters away from Leia, looking at her as if she were a wild tooka that could attack him at any moment.

Still, he said nothing, and Leia had enough of the silence. "Are you going to shoot me, too?" She asked, jutting her chin out at him, hoping Luke didn't hear the tremor in her voice. She was painfully aware that she just avoided death by a second, and the remainder didn't sit well with her. Especially since she wasn't safe yet.

"I should," Luke whispered, sounding defeated. "I really, really should."

He didn't raise his blaster, though, and Leia saw her opportunity. "You know, we could–"

"–form an alliance?" He interrupted her dryly. "There are nine tributes left, seven excluding us. An alliance at this point doesn't seem like a good idea."

She knew he was right. At this point in the Games, most people broke alliances, not formed them. If they somehow managed to take out the other seven tributes, they would be left facing each other, and that was never easy after former camaraderie.

Leia imagined having to kill Luke in the end, and the thought made her sick to the core.

"You could just let me go, then," she said instead, seeing his reluctance. It seemed he was just as opposed to killing her as she was to kill him. "This one time."

"And then what? When we are the only ones left, you'll let me kill you? To pay the debt."

Leia pursued her lips. They were at an impasse, and they both knew it. "I could give you supplies in exchange," she tried again.

Luke shrugged. "I don't need them."

The silence stretched between them again before Luke finally sighed, putting his blaster back to its holster. "Fine. Let's form an alliance."

Leia drew back in shock. "But–"

"It was _your_ idea, remember?" Luke reminded her sharply, raising an eyebrow, and Leia fell silent. "Now, you will promise not to hurt me, and I will cut you free."

"I promise," Leia said quickly, then bit her tongue. Did that apply for later, too, when their alliance was broken?

But the real question was, would she be able to kill Luke Skywalker even then?

Luke sent her a tentative smile, pulling out a vibroblade from his backpack and starting to work on the net, and Leia felt a sinking sensation in her stomach.

No. The answer was no.

* * *

Han felt like banging his head on the wall.

Why, oh why, had the kid to complicate everything?

He could kill the Princess. It would be a clean shot, a quick death. One person less in the game.

Instead, he decided to form an alliance, of all things. _Everyone_ knew it was a bad idea at this point, _Luke_ knew it. If they were the only ones left in the Games, Han just knew the kid wouldn't be able to kill the Princess.

Han could only hope that she would be killed at some point before, as that Kilvian kid had.

And why did he care, anyway? Han told himself he was in it only for the money, but the growing knot in his stomach ensured that he wasn't able to fool himself for long.

When had he started to care for the kid?

The commentators went wild about this latest development, creating theories that ranged from childhood friends to tragic lovers. It seemingly didn't matter to them that Luke was from Tatooine and Leia from Alderaan and thus the chances of them having met before were slim.

Though, Han wondered about this lovers theory himself. Was the kid in love with the Princess, was that why he refused to kill her? If Luke hadn't killed three people before, Han would peg it down as a general inability to kill, but alas, that was not the case.

Whatever it was, it wouldn't end well for him.

Han observed their progress throughout the next day, comm always close on hand in case he needed to send some supplies. Luke and Leia managed to build themselves a hideout out of fallen branches and the items Han sent them, and they spent most of their time inside.

He hoped they didn't stay idle too long. That never ended well for tributes.

Meanwhile, three other tributes died, one killed by the Wookie, other eaten by some wild creature Han didn't recognize, and the last died in a fire. That left six tributes in total, including Luke and Leia, and the other four would be on the lookout for them. Those four had previously allied as well, and their alliance now included two humans, the Wookie, and a Rodian, and Han knew their alliance would end as soon as Luke and Leia were dead.

When Han had sent Luke those explosives, he had hoped the kid would put them to good use, but so far, they remained untouched. He seriously debated sending him a blaster cannon as well, but that would require Luke to make an assault on the other tributes or their base, and Han wasn't sure the kid had the dedication.

So far, he had killed in defense, but Luke didn't seem willing to plan an attack himself.

His comm beeped and Han picked it up, grunting, "Yes?."

"Mr. Solo," Firmus Piett answered in his usual dry voice. "My employer would like to know why you're being… idle."

" _I'm_ being idle?" Han exclaimed, offended.

"Let me specify," Piett said. "With the money at your disposal, my employer is wondering why you won't provide Skywalker with more useful artillery."

"Well, unless your employer can make it possible for speeders to be allowed in the arena, he should shut up," Han growled, annoyed at hearing the same argument he was considering just moments before. "More weapons will only slow the kid down if he won't _use_ them."

There was a pause before Piett spoke up again. "Why do you think he won't use them?"

Han shrugged, though the other man couldn't see him anyway. "So far, he demonstrated a proclivity for avoiding fights, not causing them. I already gave him some explosives and he has yet to use them."

"I see," Piett replied tartly. "Even so, I feel it is my duty to point out that should the boy die because you withheld any supplies, you will be held accountable, Mr. Solo."

"Oh, piss off," Han growled, though he couldn't help the slight knot of anxiety that formed in his stomach. Whoever had that much money to throw on tributes, certainly had enough resources to make Han's life a living hell.

Piett disconnected and Han let out a breath, turning his eyes back to the holoprojector. The other four tributes stayed close to the Cornucopia, while Luke and Leia remained in their hiding spot. If Han knew anything about Galactic Games, then he knew that confrontation would be forced soon.

Perhaps he should send Luke that blaster cannon, after all. Along with other things that would give him a hint to fortify…

* * *

"What are you doing?" Leia asked, looking at her companion curiously. Luke was taking his blaster apart, playing with the parts.

Luke shrugged. "Improving it."

"What's the point? Can't your mentor send you something better?" Leia quickly discovered that when it came to sponsors, her parents had serious competition.

"I'm sure he will," Luke replied mildly, holding up one part of the blaster and bringing it to his eye level. "I like playing with machinery. I used to repair vaporators back at home."

 _Are blasters machines, though?_ Leia wondered, but didn't say anything.

They were sitting in their makeshift hideout, having not found any better hiding place. Luke was similarly injured to Leia, in addition to having his ankle sprained, and so they spent the last hours nursing their injuries.

"We'll need to leave soon," Leia said reluctantly. She didn't want to leave- she was still slightly injured and tired, but they already spent one entire day in this place, and by Galactic Games' standards, that was one day too long.

Luke sighed. "I know," he said forlornly, putting the blaster on the ground. "Three tributes died yesterday. The endgame is near."

The words caused Leia's stomach to tighten in anxiety. They both knew what endgame meant, even if neither acknowledged it openly.

What would happen if they were the last tributes left alive?

A thud sounded outside their provisional hideout and they both stiffened, expecting the worst. When nothing happened for a moment, Leia leaned forward towards the exit, only then noticing a sliver package laying outside.

"It's a gift," she said, stepping outside and picking up the bundle. "Who for?"

Luke shrugged. "Does it matter?"

Leia supposed it didn't. She brought it back inside, spilling the contents on the ground and frowning. "That's a lot of explosives."

Luke abandoned his previous task and scooted closer, rummaging between the objects. "A lot of nets and wires, too. And a shovel. Looks like someone wants us to build a trap."

"That makes sense," Leia agreed, mentally kicking herself for not thinking of this before. She had fallen into a trap, after all. Who's to say others wouldn't?

"Hmm," Luke hummed, picking up a set of explosives with a timer. "Where do you think we should start? Here, outside our hideout?"

"We should start by blowing up their supplies," Leia said firmly. "We've talked about this before, and there is no time to waste. We can't risk them coming after us with heavy artillery."

Luke nodded, though his gaze was unfocused. "And after we do that, then what? We set up a trap, put some explosives inside, and wait for someone to be blown up?" The last part was spoken awkwardly, and Leia knew he was uncomfortable with the concept. Leia could sympathize- she had similar sentiments.

"I guess…" she trailed off. "Maybe someone else will die in the meantime."

They both knew how likely that was. Leia and Luke were the only tributes left outside of the Career's alliance, so it was obvious the others would go after them first.

"Well," Luke paused. "We should get to it, then."

"Do we have any strategy? There will be four of them near the Cornucopia, shouldn't we distract them somehow?" Leia asked.

Luke scratched his chin, his expression thoughtful. "Maybe we can do two things at once. What if we set up a trap somewhere on the other side of the arena, leave one explosive with a timer there, then wait for it to go off? They will probably go investigate, since no cannon will be sounded, and in the meantime, we can take care of their supplies."

Leia considered, then nodded. "That sounds like a plan. Let's go."

They packed all the explosives and set off in the direction of the Cornucopia, knowing they would have to go around it. Keeping their blasters at the ready, they stuck to bigger trees, pausing every few minutes to make sure so one was following them.

Eventually, they reached the edge of the clearing located in the center of the arena and crouched behind a thick bush, looking over the Career's base.

Leia pursed her lips. "I see only three of them. Where's the fourth?"

Luke tensed up beside her, eyes roaming over the area in front of them. "I don't know, but I don't like it."

His apprehension influenced Leia's own mood, and she gripped her blaster tightly, shifting on her feet.

She had a bad feeling about this.

This feeling only grew the longer they stayed behind that bush, and Leia was about to suggest they go back to their hideout and regroup when a sudden cold sensation pierced through her chest, almost causing her to drop the blaster. At the same time, Luke hissed, "Get down!", and Leia found herself stumbling a step backward before dropping flat to the ground, a strong hand pushing her down.

A second later, a large beam of intense energy materialized above their heads, and Leia stared, mesmerized, while it disappeared into the ground in the exact spot she had been standing in just moments before. Numbly, she realized it must be coming from somewhere up in the trees. The beam disappeared a moment later and Luke immediately shot to his feet, dragging Leia along. "Run!" He shouted, already running

Luke ran along the edge of the clearing, putting as much distance between themselves and the cannon blaster as possible. Leia stumbled after him, wondering faintly why he wasn't running into the forest. Another energy beam followed after them, this time cutting through trees, and Leia had never run as fast she had at that moment, not wanting to be crushed by the falling trees.

More shots came after them from the center of the arena and Luke slowed down, reaching into his pocket and taking something out. Immediately, he tossed it right into the clearing, and the explosion that followed right after made Leia realize that he was still trying to take out their supplies- or maybe the tributes, this time.

Shocked cries came from the site of the explosion but no cannon followed, which meant that most likely no one had died yet. They stopped when they were reasonably sure they were out of reach of the blaster cannon, and with one look at each other they reached to their backpacks, taking out a handful of explosives.

A blaster bolt passed right by Leia's ear and she flinched, realizing that the Careers must have a blaster rifle with them as well. Taking a swing, she threw the explosives as far as she could, and a moment later they all went off in a cacophony of sounds.

This time the cries were followed by two sounds of the cannon, and Leia let out a small breath. Her relief didn't last long, though- a moment later they were under assault by blaster fire again, and Leia's heart dropped to her stomach when Luke dropped to the ground, clutching his stomach.

Leia wanted to kneel next to him and look at his wound, but she couldn't- the blaster bolts were still flying, mostly scattering at the trees. Due to the dense smoke from the explosives, she couldn't see the shooter, and most likely he couldn't see her. If Leia were to guess, he was shooting blindly, hitting a large area around them.

Crouching to the ground, Leia took out even more explosives, thanking however sent them for giving them such a big amount. She threw them again, this time in different directions, and the shots stopped for a while.

No cannon, though. Leia wasn't sure what to do- Luke was visibly injured and she wouldn't be able to carry him all the way into the forest, especially if someone followed them. Right now, she had to deal with only one assailant, but there was one other, somewhere in the trees- the one with blaster cannon. If he already left his post, she would have two tributes to deal with.

Gritting her teeth, Leia sent Luke an apologetic look and ran off towards the Cornucopia, hoping to take out one of the two with her blaster. For a long moment, she didn't see anything- the smoke hadn't dissipated yet and the visibility was bad. Then she noticed a figure lying on the ground, coughing, and she ran over, already raising her blaster.

The boy was already half-dead and it took one shot to finish him off.

Turning on her heel, Leia scanned the trees for any sign of the last Career and had only half a second to duck before a bright energy beam came flying her way. Leia fell to the ground before quickly stumbling to her feet a few seconds later, not wanting to wait for the beam to change its direction. She had one advantage- blaster cannons were big and heavy, and maneuvering them took a lot of strength and concentration. They also took long to reload. If she was fast, she had a chance to avoid it.

Sprinting towards the forest, Leia saw Luke already waiting for her at the tree line, one hand clutching his injured stomach, his expression grim. She skidded to a stop right in front of him, making sure she was still obscured by the trees- the blaster cannon would still cut right through them, but maybe the two of them wouldn't be visible to their assailant.

"We should finish this," he said tiredly, and there was some sort of resignation in his voice. Leia knew he was right- they were in the Endgame, and she was pretty sure the Gamemakers wouldn't let them leave now- most likely, they would force them to confront the last tribute whether they wanted to or not.

"Okay," she agreed, and Luke handed her another backpack, once again filled to the brim with explosives- he must have received another gift while she was gone. They set off towards the other side of the arena, where the energy beam had come from. They weren't shot at this time, and if Leia had to guess, she would bet the last tribute abandoned his post and ran, the blaster cannon too heavy to carry around.

They stopped just at the edge of the clearing, searching with their gaze for their target. The forest was still and silent, and there was no sign of anyone in their peripheral vision.

Leia hesitated, her former resolve faltering. She didn't want to actively hunt anyone down, and since the tribute seemed to have disappeared, that's what they would have to do.

A few seconds passed, and then the silence was broken by a loud scream, quickly followed by a hungry roar. The sounds continued for a few moments until eventually, the screaming stopped, and the sound of a cannon reverberated throughout the arena.

Leia found herself frozen to the spot, and out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Luke doing the same. Numbly, she wondered if whatever had killed the last tribute would come after them as well, but a few minutes passed and nothing happened.

Eventually, Luke broke the silence.

"So," he said conversationally. "We're the last tributes alive."

His light tone made Leia want to laugh hysterically. "So we are."

Luke nodded, as if the matter didn't concern him in the slightest. "I'm sure it's pretty obvious by now that I'm not going to kill you," he said, raising his head to look Leia in the eyes. "Are you?"

Leia was surprised he even had to ask. "No," she said, because since the last cannon sounded, the thought of killing Luke hadn't even crossed her mind.

Luke seemed to have been expecting this- her declaration didn't faze him in the least. Instead, he plopped down on the ground, reaching into his backpack and taking out some bacta patches. He applied them to his wound carefully while Leia shifted on her feet.

"So," she started, mostly to break the silence. "Do we just wait for whatever they throw our way to finish us off?"

"Maybe," Luke said contemplatively, attention still on his wound. Then he paused, seeming to consider something. "Do you think all this living is worth dying for?"

Leia frowned, not understanding. "What?"

Luke picked up his blaster, turning it over in his hands. Then he pointed it at Leia, and she heard a clicking noise coming from the weapon.

She found it incredibly funny that despite having a blaster pointed at her, Leia felt no fear.

"These blasters sure are bad," Luke said mildly, lowering his arm. "Remember in the training center? I couldn't shoot straight to save my life. Back at home, though? Never had that problem before. I'm good with machines."

Leia hesitated, unsure. Luke definitely seemed to be getting at something, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what. Some part of her thought wryly, _Are blasters machines, though?_

That thought made her freeze, and she slowly turned her gaze to the blaster in Luke's hands, resting casually in his lap. He raised an eyebrow at her, saying, "You agree, don't you? Just look at your blaster. Someone would've thought Coruscanti models were superior to those we had in the Outer Rim, but alas, that's shavit."

Leia picked up her blaster, turning it over in her hands and experimentally changing the settings.

Realization dawned.

She smiled. "I think you're right."

Luke grinned back at her, bringing the blaster up to his temple, finger ready on the trigger. "I'm not waiting for some krayt dragons to tear me apart, are _you_?" He asked.

"No," Leia replied, mirroring his movements. "On three?"

Luke nodded. "One."

"Two."

"Th–"

"STOP! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Fourteenth Galactic Games, Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa! I give you—the tributes of Tatooine and Alderaan!"

* * *

Wilhuff Tarkin didn't know what happened. One moment he was watching Skywalker and Organa getting ready to commit suicide, and the next the room he was standing in was engulfed in silence, everyone staring at him as if he grew a second head.

He turned back to the holo and was greeted with the sight of two surprised faces, both visibly alive, and both looking up at the sky as if they just saw a flying bantha.

What the _hell_ happened?

His train of thought was broken by the sound of mechanical breathing just behind his shoulder, and Tarkin turned around, suddenly having a very good idea who was responsible for whatever just happened.

"Vader," he hissed, incensed. "What did you _do_?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean," Vader rumbled in response, and Tarkin was sure he could detect a smug undertone in his voice. " _You_ just declared two victors of Fourteenth Galactic Games."

Tarkin froze, rooted to the spot. This had to be a joke. He couldn't have possibly–

The shocked faces of all the other Gamemakers in the room told him otherwise. His face creased in a snarl while he whirled around to face Vader. " _You_ did this."

"Me?" Vader asked, and Tarkin got the distinct impression he was raising an eyebrow under his mask. It made him want to rip that mask to pieces. "As I said, I don't know what you mean. Are you not in full possession of your faculties, Grand Moff Tarkin?"

Tarkin gritted his teeth, knowing that Vader was right- if he continued to claim that he hasn't done anything, he would look crazy to everyone in the room. Still, he couldn't just let Vader get away with this outrageous affront.

"The emperor will hear of this," he hissed quietly, meaning for the words to reach Vader's ears alone.

Vader inclined his head, and even that simple act seemed mocking to Tarkin's eyes. "I'm sure he will," he said, turning on his heel and striding for the door. "Good luck, Head Gamemaker."

The cold pit in Tarkin's stomach somehow told him he would need it.

* * *

The first thing that greeted Luke's eyes after exiting the turbolift in the lobby of the Training Center was Han's furious face, his brows scrunched up in a glare. "Were you out of your mind?!" He shouted, gripping Luke by the shoulders and giving him a firm shake.

Luke sent him a lopsided smile in response. "Hey Han, what's up?"

That earned him a fierce scowl and another shake. "Don't 'Hey Han' me, kid. I can't believe you almost committed suicide!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Han," Luke said, extricating himself from the older man's hold. "Me? Suicide? Are you crazy?"

" _You're_ the one who's crazy," Han replied, but his eyes narrowed in thought. "You _were_ trying to commit suicide, right?"

Luke glanced at the rest of the lobby, seeing their Imperial Escort and his stylist team coming their way. Giving Han a significant glance, he murmured, "Let's talk somewhere private, shall we?"

Han's eyebrows rose, but he followed Luke into one of the rooms, both of them ignoring the shouted 'The victory gala begins in thirty minutes!' from Kavkins. Once the door behind them closed, Han crossed his arms over his chest and demanded, "Speak. What was it about in the arena?"

Luke leaned against the wall, a smile tugging at his lips. "Did you know that the blasters we got in the arena, including the ones you sent me, had no stun setting?" He asked.

Han blinked, surprise evident on his face. "They didn't?"

"No," Luke replied. "What would we need it for? We were there to kill each other," he paused, locking his eyes with Han. "So I… tweaked them a bit. The blasters. Mine and Leia's."

A moment passed with Han staring at Luke in silence, unblinking. "You mean…" he started, then paused. Gave Luke a once over and started again. "You mean it was a sham? With the suicide?"

Luke shrugged. "More or less."

"What do you mean, 'more or less'? How did you know Tarkin would stop you?" Han demanded.

"I didn't," Luke replied, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "I was actually quite surprised when he did. My plan was to stun myself and then pretend to be dead until they removed us from the arena."

Han stared, speechless. "And then what? You think they would let you two live after a stunt like that?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Luke replied calmly, holding Han's gaze. "But if they killed me, it would only prove that I won. All of the galaxy would see us choosing to commit suicide rather than die on the Empire's terms. That would make quite a statement, don't you think?"

"Woah there," Han said, raising his hands in front of his chest as if he could stop Luke with the gesture. "Let's slow down with this rebellious attitude, shall we?"

"Suit yourself," Luke replied, starting for the door. "It all worked out for the best, really. Both of us are still alive, and we'll even get the prize as victors."

Han shook his head. "They won't like it. However you look at this, you forced their hand. They changed the rules of the game for you. They aren't going to let it slide."

"Hey, _I_ didn't force them to declare us both victors!" Luke protested, hand already on the doorknob. "And, well, I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he said, though there was some nervousness in his voice.

Han opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated. Finally, he shook his head in exasperation, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "You're really something, kid, you know that?"

Luke only grinned in response.

* * *

Leia put on her best smile, the one she reserved for all public appearances, and said, "Luke and I spent a lot of time together before the Games, in the Training Center. I guess we just clicked. I always knew that if we were the only ones left, I wouldn't be able to kill him."

That was a blatant life, but honestly, who would contradict her? The other tributes who were currently resting six feet under? The Head Gamemaker, who, if rumors were to be believed, was dead as well?

The interviewer's eyes gleamed, and Leia knew she had him hooked. "Ah, but don't keep us in suspense! I think we all deserve an answer to one question: was it just friendship, or was there something more? After all, you don't die every day for 'just friends'!" He exclaimed, hands gesticulating wildly.

Leia would like to disagree. A lot of people died for their friends every day.

On the couch beside her, Luke laughed nervously. "How about family, though? I can assure you that I consider Leia my sister and nothing more," he said, draping his arm over Leia's shoulders. "I would certainly die for my sister. If I were to be a sole victor, I think I would just kill myself anyway."

"Me too," Leia added, smiling at her 'brother'.

She wasn't sure if they convinced the interviewer or not, but he seemed to have accepted the answer and moved on, saying, "There was some talk that you've known each other before the Games. Is that true?"

"It certainly feels like that," Leia replied, and she wasn't lying. There was something about Luke that just screamed _familiar,_ even though she couldn't explain the reason why. "But I'm afraid we first met in the Imperial Center."

The interviewer glanced at Luke with a raised eyebrow, willing him to add something, and Luke said hurriedly, "That's true. But even though I've known Leia for such a short time, I knew I would rather die with her than live without her."

Funny, but the words tugged at something in Leia's heart and she realized she could share the sentiment.

It was irrational. She had known Luke for only a couple of days, and they didn't even spend that much time in each other's company. And yet…

And yet there was some inexplicable bond between them that had nothing to do with infatuation. When she thought about Luke, the feelings were similar to those she felt for her parents, not a crush. Leia would be lying if she said she didn't consider the notion of pretending to be lovers, just for the camera, but there was something about that idea that just screamed _wrong_ , in the same way that the notion of killing Luke turned her stomach upside down.

She hoped Luke felt the same way. She wouldn't want to hurt his feelings.

The interviewer asked them a couple more questions before signing off and bidding them goodbye, leaving them alone.

For a few moments, Leia and Luke sat together in the empty room, comfortable with the silence. Eventually, Luke spoke, "That's it, then. I guess I'll see you in a few months on the Victory Tour?"

"Yes," Leia replied, smiling tentatively at him before a worried expression crossed her face. "Luke, be careful in that time."

Luke's smile dimmed, and he twisted his hands in his lap. "You too, huh? Think the Empire's gonna be after us?"

Leia grimaced. "We've humiliated them. They're not going to let this go."

Luke sighed, getting up from the couch. "I might regret this later, but at the moment I'm just glad we're both still alive. So let's not worry prematurely."

Leia wished she had his optimism. Luke might have been the one to come up with the plan, but it was Leia who was specifically chosen to die in that arena. She couldn't imagine the Emperor was pleased to hear she was still alive.

"Just… take care, okay?" Leia asked, getting up as well. On a sudden impulse, she stepped forward and enveloped her companion in a hug, clenching her hands on his jacket. Luke returned the embrace, and they stood like that for a moment, until their respective Escorts had come to pick them up.

The next day they would return to their planets and not see each other for a long time, though Leia fully intended to keep in touch.

She could only hope that the consequences of their deception would be focused on her, and not anyone else.

* * *

Darth Vader kneeled in front of his master's throne, expectant. The blasted Games were finally over and hopefully, he would be able to finally move forward with his plans.

"Lord Vader," the Emperor drawled, one gnarled finger tapping the armrest of his throne. "Is there something you need?"

Vader never had the patience for his master's games before, and he had even less now. Deciding to get straight to the point, he rumbled, "I'm going to retrieve the boy before he leaves the Imperial Center, Master."

Emperor Palpatine leaned forward in his seat, face creasing in displeasure. "I don't remember giving you that order, Lord Vader."

"You said that after he won the Games, we would train him in the dark side," Vader replied.

"After he _proved himself_ ," Palpatine stressed. "He didn't do that. The Games would be such a good gateway to the dark side, what with having to kill former friends and colleagues." The Emperor paused, shaking his head as if in regret. "And what does the boy do? He refuses to kill the girl and instead proceeds to make fools of us!" He hissed.

"The suicide attempt was regrettable, but–"

"There was no suicide attempt!" Palpatine snapped, yellow eyes blazing. "He had modified the blasters to include a stun setting, intending to _pretend_ to be dead!"

Vader reeled back in shock, processing what he had just heard. Luke hadn't intended to die? It was all a sham? So he didn't need to–

"So you see, Lord Vader," Palpatine continued more calmly, once more leaning back in his seat. "Your intervention was totally unnecessary."

"I didn't–"

"Oh, spare me your lies," Palpatine hissed. "Tarkin would never have done something so monumentally stupid, he valued his life too much. Even so, since there were witnesses, his death couldn't be avoided."

Vader was silent for a moment. Eventually, he said, "If the boy indeed planned this, then we should commend him for that. It is a deception worthy of a Sith."

"He should have killed Organa!" The Emperor snapped, enraged.

Vader couldn't say he disagreed with the sentiment, but now was not the time to voice such thoughts. Before he had a chance to say anything, however, the Emperor spoke up again, "It would've been much better if you hadn't interrupted, Lord Vader. That way we could have silently killed off Organa and be done with her."

The sudden pang in his chest told Vader that the Emperor was right. He had screwed up, badly.

"That may be so," he said finally, not about to give up. "But the boy shouldn't be blamed for his upbringing. If we train him in the dark side, he will soon abandon all traces of compassion."

"Maybe," Palpatine replied, baring his teeth. "The potential is there. I suppose I should give the boy another chance to prove his worth."

"Thank you, Master–"

"BUT," Palpatine interrupted, voice steel, his lips forming a thin smile. "Thanks to you, Lord Vader, our task is much harder than it would be otherwise."

Vader shifted on the floor, already knowing he would not like the next words. "What do you mean?"

Palpatine steepled his fingers in front of him, expression almost regretful. "Had the boy 'died' on vision, we could simply smuggle him into the palace, proclaiming him dead otherwise," he said, shaking his head. "Now, though? The Holo Press will be closely watching our two victors during this following year, and we can hardly be seen to be favoring one of them. Not to mention the Victory Tour, which will require both of their participation."

These were all excuses, and they both knew it. Vader gritted his teeth, already preparing himself for a long argument with the Emperor. "I'm sure we can find a solution that will satisfy everyone, Master."

Narrowing his yellow eyes, Palpatine spoke up, voice laced with threat, "Yes. The solution is that I will keep an eye on the boy in the following months, and by the time the year has passed, I will test him again. Moreover, you will not contact Skywalker until that time- he is to remain unaware of your relationship."

That was absolutely _not_ to Vader's liking. Too many things could happen in a year. For all he knew, Palpatine could teach the boy in secret, turning him against his father before they even met. And if _Vader_ tried to contact the boy, his master would surely know. "Master, I must protest–"

"I have made my decision, Lord Vader," Palpatine cut in, voice already dismissive. "You will accept it, or I might yet change my mind about whether the boy is worth the hassle. He _did_ cross me, after all."

The threat was evident. Vader gritted his teeth, knowing he had lost this particular fight. "I understand, Master."

He rose to full height and strode out of the throne room, fuming. He could still go against his master's wishes, but was it worth it? Palpatine would immediately know, and Vader knew he wouldn't be able to defeat him at the moment. Not without his son, who was currently completely untrained and unaware of his own potential.

One year. He could wait one year. If Palpatine thought he could win Luke's loyalty, he was sorely mistaken. Vader was the boy's father, and there was no way he wouldn't choose him over the Emperor.

Yes. Sooner or later, the boy would join him, and together they would destroy the Emperor and rule the galaxy as father and son.

Under his mask, Vader smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


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